À Un Autre Comme Moi
by catswithbenefits
Summary: A sick twist of fate has got Eponine tangled up with the Barricade Boys and their radical ideals. When she struggles to keep up with them as well as her studies she cashes in favors owed to her by a certain blond revolutionary. (Modern AU)
1. Chapter 1

The music scholarship she'd been awarded last year only paid for half the trip to the state capital. The other half she'd taken from her parents pitiful bank account in secret, intending to make enough while in the big city to pay them back. That meant skipping out on half of the scheduled activities and sneaking away from the choir, but Eponine would do anything for her Marius. She sat on the bus alone, her clothes for the next week in a plastic bag on her lap. It was all she could smuggle away without her parents being any wiser. They never would've let her leave if they had known it was for an entire week. They _needed_ her for their scams! Who else could play the pathetic teen mother who needed money for her unborn child? Azelma was too coarse looking to be pitied and her mother was too old to be taken seriously. No, Eponine was the bread winner when it came to pity.

Mr. Valjean boarded the bus, his pretty little daughter trailing behind him. As predicted, they sat in the front which is why Eponine was in the far back. If she wanted time with Marius, she wanted to have time with ALL of Marius. Whenever he was around that blonde thing he ended up ignoring Eponine. It wasn't fair. He'd been so involved with all of his friends up until this year. Now that they were off to college in the big city, she was all he had left. At least that was how it was supposed to happen. The old director quit and Valjean moved into town second semester, bringing his gorgeous daughter with him. Marius was bound to love such a lithe little thing like Cosette. She was an angel in every sense of the word. And Eponine? She was just Eponine. There wasn't a snowflake's chance in Hell that she would be able to capture Marius' attention now, but that didn't mean that she couldn't try.

He boarded late, and Eponine waved him down before he could even glance Cosette's way.

"Hey, 'Ponine," Marius said sparing a glance at her grocery bag. "What'cha got there?"

"Nothing," she answered nonchalantly, storing it beneath her seat. He was prone to sympathizing over her home situation. He was always trying to give her advice, but he wasn't very good at it. Besides, being pitied wasn't being loved or even well-liked. In fact, it was practically being looked down upon. She wanted his adoration, not his sad little knee pats.

Marius nodded, accepting her suspicious behaviour. He slouched in his seat, taking out his ipod and A Tale of Two Cities. Eponine nearly groaned. The bus ride was practically the only time she was going to get to spend time with him throughout the entire trip, and he was going to ignore her for his homework and shit rap music. She would have taken a hundred sympathetic knee pats over him being worlds away right next to her, heck, she would have even taken the glazed look he gave her when she knew he was thinking of Cosette instead of what she was saying.

About a half hour into the ride, Eponine formulated a new plan and feigned being asleep. She'd only gotten four hours of shut eye the night before, but being in Marius' presence woke her right up. Her plan was to let her head fall to his shoulder, and maybe for him to fall asleep and lean against her as well. If they weren't going to touch, she at least wanted to be with a little part of him. As soon has her head brushed his arm though, he moved away, letting her drop into empty space, jolting her from her reverie.

"Do you want my pillow?" he asked taking out his headphones. Eponine took it grudgingly, sure, it smelled like him, but he smelled like him too. This time, she fell fitfully asleep against the window. When she woke they were at the capital, and Marius was in the front with Cosette, sharing his music with her. Eponine punched his stupid pillow a few times, vowing that by the bus ride back she would be the one he wanted instead of that wench.

**A/N: This is set in an America where war and famine have ravaged the land, causing the government to take drastic action and inadvertently turn itself into a dictatorship. No worries, it will all be explained in further chapters! **


	2. Chapter 2

It was mid-afternoon when they found the hotel. Eponine was the last off the bus because she had been sitting in back alone. By the time she got out, all of the other girls had paired up for room assignments. 'Four to a room,' Mr. Valjean had said. There were 17 girls in the choir though, and Eponine was the odd one out. She sat awkwardly on a bench in the lobby while everyone talked around her. After counting the groups, Valjean saw his mistake and separated a few friends to room with her.

Cosette and Musichetta sat down dejectedly on either side of Eponine.

"They say three's a crowd," Cosette said after a long awkward silence, "but I'd much rather have three than four," she was trying her hardest to be cheerful.

"Who's sharing and who gets to spread out?" Musichetta asked, referring to the bedding situation.

Eponine raised her hand, "I'm impartial," she needed to be on her roommates good side for her escape plan to work.

Cosette handed her the room key. "Well, then I hope you don't kick," she smiled sweetly.

_Self-sacrificing whore,_ Eponine thought. _How am I supposed to hate you if you're so good all the time?_

Around two AM, she made sure to kick Cosette awake. To play hooky by faking sick, she needed an audience. Stumbling out of bed, she made her way to the bathroom. The toilet lid clanged loudly on the porcelain, waking Musichetta as well. Eponine stuck her finger down her throat and gagged loudly to make herself sound incredibly ill. Not a minute passed before Cosette was kneeling behind her, holding back her hair. Eponine wasn't sure if she was going to be able to perform now without a stimulus and cursed Cosette's kindness again. She tried gagging and thinking about the taste in her mouth but it didn't work. Cosette cooed and rubbed her back gently. _This is the kind of person Marius deserves._ The thought made her sick enough to have no problem producing more of the sandwich Jehan had shared with her.

Musichetta leaned in the doorway, her hair mussed up, sleep still in her eyes. "Want me to get Valjean?"

"No!" Eponine rasped, she throat sore from the bile.

"Are you sure?"

"I think I'm done now."

"I'll tell him tomorrow that you can't come out. I'm sure he'll understand." The two girls helped her back to the bed.

"Is it okay if you share with me till morning?" Cosette asked Musichetta. She grunted in approval, flopping back into her pillow and pulling the duvet over her head. Cosette arranged the blankets over Eponine before retiring herself.

Feigning sick really took it out of Eponine. She tried to steady her breath and still her trembling limbs. She would've killed for a smoke right then, but that would mean breaking character and forfeiting all the work she'd done thus far. She smashed her face into her pillow and tried to think of happy thoughts so that she wouldn't cry. All of them included Marius, so she bit her cheeks and tried to focus on the physical pain instead.

The girls had gone before Eponine even woke. She'd only slept for a few hours and was starving, but there wasn't time to think about that; she had pockets to pick. Pulling on her ratty t-shirt and thrift store jeans, she tried to remember where the major metropolitan areas were. She slipped the room key into her back pocket and headed out. Asking for directions was a good ruse for stealing wallets anyway. When she opened the door though, there was a tearing sound. Eponine's stomach dropped. She stepped out into the hallway and inspected the door frame There, just below the handle was a ripped piece of tape. She should have known they'd lock her in. It was against the rules to leave students unsupervised, but with only two chaperons, no one could be spared for her. They'd taped the door so that they'd know if she left.

Eponine tried to think of an excuse for the broken tape, but they all sounded pretty weak. She resolved to think of it all day, maybe with more time she'd be able to come up with a plausible story.

* * *

More than an hour into stealing from tourists, she still hadn't thought of a good alibi and had barely made enough to cover an eighth of what she owed. She could feel herself wilting with hunger. Passing a bakery of fresh bread was almost too much to bear. Eponine turned herself into the next cafe she saw, surrendering a few of her dollars for a bagel. She sat in the darkest corner and watched everyone mingle about. Half were writing novels and the other half were taking pictures of their coffees for instagram. Just as Eponine began to feel uncomfortable with her company, she saw a familiar face. _Enjolras._ All time tenor soloist, principal for every musical, leader of Marius' band of brothers, and the object of every high school girl's fantasy. Eponine had heard much about him, but had always flown under his radar just like every other student who wasn't a part of his dorky political club.

She pretended to be really interested in her bagel, lest he remember her and say hello. If he wanted to talk to her, she'd have to think of an excuse for being there. Chances were, he'd been invited to watch his old high school preform and would email the school about her misconduct. There was also a pretty good chance he wouldn't recognize her, period. Eponine watched him order his caffeine in her peripheral and considered getting up and hiding in the bathroom. _Getting up might bring more attention that just sitting here,_ she reasoned. Still trying to make a decision, Enjolras' perpetually drunken friend, Grantaire, caught sight of her. He sat down in the chair across from her, sloshing his drink.

"I know this is kind of a weird question, but I feel like we've met before! Have we?"

Enjolras came over to put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Leave the girl be, we have things to attend to!"

Grantaire brushed him off. "No, I swear I've seen you before! Help me out. What college do you go to? Do you frequent any bars?"

"I used to go to high school with you," Eponine offered. She remembered Grantaire showing up late to every concert. If anyone could identify with her and quell Enjolras' sense of justice it would be him. The truth was rarely the best, but her hunger slowed her wits. "I'm friend of Marius'."

Grantaire steepled his fingers and pressed them to his chapped lips. "I know it, I know it, don't tell me!"

"She's Marius' shadow," Enjolras said, fed up with his friend's antics.

Eponine blushed hotly. She had overheard them calling her that behind her back, but no one ever had the gall or indecency to call her it to her face. "It's Eponine, my name is Eponine."

"Lovely," Enjolras said, rolling his eyes. "We've got to go, or we're going to be late," he tugged at Grantaire's arm, but his friend made himself dead weight.

"You're the girl that won the scholarship last year! And you got emancipated from your parents too, right?"

Eponine's felt faint. "What? How'd you know that?"

"Everyone knows it. Marius told us about how much trouble it was causing you! Enjolras, she should come to the protest with us! She's exactly the type of person you were looking for! Desperate and poor, she's the poster child of the oncoming revolution."

"Marius did what?"

"Grantaire, if you don't leave right now, I'm going without you." he turned on his heel and started for the door.

Grantaire stood and motioned for Eponine to follow. "Please come, it'll be more fun with you there!"

"You didn't even know my name a second ago!" she didn't belong with these people. They might be Marius' friends, but they certainly weren't her's.

Enjolras was holding the door open, tapping his foot. Grantaire leaned in closer to Eponine conspiratorially. "I heard you like to drink though," he pulled a bottle out of seemingly nowhere. "I don't really want to go to this thing, but Enjy insists," he pulled a face and pretended to shoot himself with his free hand. "A friend of Marius' is a friend of mine, especially if they like to tip a few back!"

Eponine chewed her lip, considering the offer. A large gathering like protest would be the perfect place to pick a few pockets, and she could really use a drink.

Grantaire looked over his shoulder and held a finger up to Enjolras, telling him to wait just another minute. He turned back to Eponine, suddenly serious. "Some asshole suggested to Enjolras the other night that I like him, and he's been giving me weird looks all day like he's waiting for me to make a move on him. I need a third wheel to make him forget about it. I'll pay you! Ten dollars, and a bottle of beer, please come with us!"

Eponine was sold, not just for the free money and booze, but she could empathize with this man. That was how all of last year had gone. She could remember every second of every awkward silence she and Marius had shared. "So, do you actually like him then?"

"Are you in or no?"

Eponine held out her hand and Grantaire place a wrinkled ten in it and the bottle of cheap Boonesfield wine. She followed the two of them around back to the cafe parking lot.

"Hey, whoa, wait! I thought we were walking to this shin dig."

"Well, we're not," Enjolras said, " disgruntled by her attendance.

Grantaire was already climbing into the driver's side, "When we're done, we can drive you back to wherever you're staying! You can even ride shotgun." Enjolras looked particularly upset about the last amendment.

"I thought you were drunk, are you sure you're okay to drive?" Despite her doubts, Eponine was already opening the passenger door. It was a really stupid idea for a young woman to get into a random car with two virtual strangers, but her entire demeanor at the moment was "what the hell."

"Enjy here is on probation, so he can't, and you have no idea where we're going. If I'm not going to drive, who is?"

"Probation?" Eponine's worry-o-meter shot straight to the top. Half of the people who hung around her family were on probation or parole. She had thought that these two boys were good, clean company. If she pegged them wrong, if they weren't who she thought they were, what else didn't she know? Grantaire started the car and pulled out into traffic, barely sparing a glance for a stop light he sped through.

"I'm on probation wrongfully. Grantaire, could you _please_ at least attempt not to get us pulled over?"

"You're on probation for assault, buddy, it doesn't get more black and white than that," Grantaire chuckled.

Eponine locked her seat belt into place so that she wouldn't be thrown through the windshield. "I thought you were more of a use-your-words-not-your-fists guy."

"It was self-defense. I had no choice."

Grantaire laughed again. "He was wearing a suit and holding a sign, hardly a threat! He didn't even see you!"

"That sounds like assault to me," Eponine turned around to look at the man. As a certified liar, she could tell who was being truthful and who wasn't.

"He was one of those Westboro Baptist pricks preaching about how God hates fags outside of a funeral home making kids cry. I did what I had to do. People like that don't listen to words."

"How was that self-defense though?"

"I was defending the people's rights to not be verbally abused and discriminated against. I was protecting our God-given right of equality."

"Do you think that man is equal to you then?" Eponine grabbed onto her seat to avoid being tossed at an abrupt stop. Enjolras wasn't so lucky.

He pushed his hair back, "Didn't I just say he was? _Our_ God-given rights refers to everyone. Everyone is equal."

"So Grantaire and I are equal to you then as well, yes?

"Yes!"

Eponine could tell he was getting frustrated at having to explain himself to her. A man like him, people never questioned. He was the sort you would follow blindly to the ends of the earth.

"And my father, when he chokes me or tries to drown me in the bathtub, and my mother, when she refuses to let me eat or puts out her cigarettes on me, they're equal as well?"

Enjolras' face soften. "I'm sorry. People like that are very sick, Eponine."

"They know what they do," she had heard his speeches before. His ideas blanketed every problem. There weren't enough exceptions or details. If it were up to him, he would give away freedoms the way Oprah gave away cars. It angered her to no end that he would argue for something he couldn't possibly understand.

Grantaire pulled into a parking ramp. "I say we're all equal only when we're dead." Eponine and Enjolras both turned to look at him. "It's nice to try and idealize things, but nothing's going to change no matter how much anyone tries."

Enjolras was angry with him all over again, "Do you come to these protests and sit in on our meetings just to mock us then? Is my plight a joke to you?"

"No! I'd love to be proven wrong! According to you, everything I do is wrong, so why shouldn't my ideas be wrong as well?" Grantaire got out and slammed his door. Eponine slowly unbuckled herself. This friendship, she was beginning to understand, was not something she wanted to get in the middle of. The ten dollars Grantaire had given her felt heavy in her pocket. She shouldn't be here.


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, Eponine wasn't needed. After Grantaire's outburst, he left Enjolras' side, presumably in search for better company. It was all fine for Eponine, she wasn't about to complain. Now, she could pick pockets without worrying the two boys might see her or trying to make awkward converstation to mend their friendship. She learned quickly though, that everyone at the noisy gathering had a serious lack of hard cash. She looked about her and felt she must have robbed every schmuck in the direct vicinity but still, she'd only made half of what was needed. It wasn't bad for a day's work, in fact, if she didn't have a set amount that she needed to pay back, what she'd collected would be noteworthy. But there _was_ a debt owed and before spring break was over she was going to have to make it up.

Eponine stood on her tiptoes, looking for Grantaire or Enjolras. She spotted Enjolras easily in his bright red coat and couldn't find the former at all. Sighing, she made her way through the crowd towards him. He was an intimidating person to say the least. Eponine hated the way she felt around him. He was like her father or Montparnasse. There was a dangerous air about him and he used it to his advantage.

"Hey," she said, a little breathless from forcing her way through the protesters. He didn't look up to acknowledge her presence. Now that she was near him, she could see that he was surrounded by the members of the political club he'd started back at the high school. It was incredible how they all followed their dear leader to college. Eponine vaguely wondered if Enjolras appreciated their loyalty.

"Courfeyrac?" He held out his hand absently while scanning a packet of papers. Courfeyrac, who Eponine recognized as both Marius' and Enjolras' best friend, produced a megaphone. "Thank you."

"What's that for?" Eponine asked nervously. Every student protest she'd ever known where a megaphone was involved ended in a thorough gassing.

"We're rallying the people," Enjolras gave his papers to Joly and took a deep breath, preparing himself.

"The people are already rallied."

Enjolra pursed his lips, "Just cheer when everyone else does."

Eponine took the papers for Joly and flipped through them quickly. It was a long and angry rant with bullet points. "You're going to lecture them? They're angry Enjolras, they don't need a lecture."

"It's not a lecture, it's a speech," he turned the megaphone on. Eponine grabbed the cone of it and pulled it down so that he wasn't able to speak.

"They already know what they want, you don't need to tell them!" she hissed "You're putting everyone here at risk! The police will use force if they think there's a central leader."

"They need to be brought to action! These protests do nothing, we have to take more drastic measures."

"Fine," Eponine tore the megaphone from Enjolras' hands and ran into the crowd. She could hear the Les Amis' feet pounding behind her and prayed they wouldn't catch up. When she got to a tree in the middle of the protest, she found Grantaire asleep at he base of it. She shook him awake, "Boost me up!"

He opened his eyes sleepily. "What?" Lucky for Eponine, a group of protesters had heard her order and were already helping her into the tree before Grantaire had even roused himself. They pushed her up to a low hanging branch, but it was enough for Eponine to be able to reach the next one which was perfect for standing upon. She looked down and saw Enjolras reaching for the branch she had just been on. It was now or never.

"LISTEN UP!" she screamed into the megaphone. The people quieted to a dull roar and turned to look at the girl in the tree. "THE OFFICIALS AREN'T_ LISTENING_ TO US, THEY'RE_ HIDING_ FROM US IN THE CAPITAL!" there was a dull 'yeah!' in response. "THEY'RE TERRIFIED OF US!" the next cheer was a little louder. "WE ARE THE MAJORITY, HOW DARE THEY ORDER US AROUND! WHO GAVE THEM THAT POWER?" There was silence.

Enjolras pulled himself up next to Eponine. "WE DID!" He screamed. The crowd slowly started to chant his response, finally understanding where Eponine was going with her message.

"AND WE CAN TAKE IT AWAY!" Eponine added before they got too loud. The protesters cheered and pumped their fists. "WE ARE DONE WITH PEACE. THEY WON'T LISTEN TO OUR WORDS! IT'S TIME WE USED FORCE! THE REVOLUTION IS UPON US!" Eponine forgot herself and let go of the tree trunk she'd been leaning against to punch the air. She stumbled and would have fallen had Enjolras not grabbed her shirt. He steadied her and climbed down first. When Eponine tried to jump from the last branch she fell to her knees, marking her pants with grass stains.

Enjolras helped her up. "That was good."

Eponine gave Courfeyrac back the megaphone. In the distance, police sirens were already sounding. The crowd was swarming on the steps of the capital building, screaming, 'KILL THE KING'.

"We should go," she looked around for Grantaire to take her back to the hotel, but he was nowhere to be found again. Enjolras was walking towards the capital in a huddle with the Les Amis. She ran after him and grabbed his sleeve. "We need to go, _now_."

He slowed down a little, "Why?"

"We're going to be arrested, or worse if we follow!" deftly, she reached into his coat pocket and stole his keys and wallet both. It didn't look like he was about to listen to logic, and she needed a way out. If he followed the crowd, she would sit and wait in the car for an hour. If he didn't come back after that, she would have to assume he'd been arrested and she would go off in search for Grantaire.

"This is a revolution, you should be willing to risk everything!" he told her sternly, still walking with his band of brothers.

"This is only the beginning! Let the people get this one, we can get the next fight, right now we need to go," she was gripping so tightly to his forearm that he stopped to look at her. "Please," she mouthed, the crowd growing too loud to be heard in. Enjolras looked to his friends who were waiting for his command. They weren't part of the senseless mob yet, they were Enjolras' soldiers, willing to follow his every command. He looked back to Eponine who was trying in vain to pull him towards the parking garage. She could see something in him break. He tore his arm from her grasp, and for a second she thought that it was all over. Instead of running off to join his friends though, he waved them on and pushed Eponine's shoulder to turn her around.

"Come on, then," he said roughly. Together, they ran full sprint to the car. Every time she stumbled, he'd haul her back up again. Without him pulling her forward, she probably would have been trampled a few times. When they got to the car, both were out of breath and holding the stitches in their sides. "You. Owe. Me," he gasped.

Eponine slid down the side of the car and tried to laugh. "I started. A revolution. What more. Do you want?"

Enjolras shook his head and felt about in his pockets for the car keys. "Shit."

"What?"

"I must have dropped the keys back there somewhere. Shitshitshitshit."

"These?" Eponine held out the keys and his wallet in separate hands. He grabbed the wallet first and shoved it deep into his back pocket. "You dropped them back when those people hit us." She could tell Enjolras was suspicious, but since he didn't press the issue, she didn't care. His wallet was thicker than the ones she had been handling all day. It could have been pictures of his family or math notes that made it so, but Eponine had a hunch that it was something else. He reached for the keys and she pulled them back into her fist. "I thought you were on probation."

"Who else can take you back home? Your buddy Grantaire ran off without so much as a word as to where he was going." Eponine gave him a look. His harshness most definitely exceeded the greatness of his popularity. Enjolras took her hand in his and pried her fingers open easily, making her drop the keys when she refused to give them up. She sighed and made her way to the passenger door. When she and her driver were all settled in, they became aware of gurgling noises coming from the back. Enjolras and she looked to the backseat simultaneously to find a drunken, snoring Grantaire passed out and missing his shirt. Enjolras put his head on the steering wheel while Eponine stifled a giggle. "This isn't how I thought today would go."

"You don't say," She picked up the now empty bottle of wine that Grantaire had promised her. "What's his problem?" _Maybe,_ she thought, _Enjolras has every right to be fed up with someone like this. If Marius were constantly drunk and pessimistic, I wouldn't want anything to do with him either._

"He hates himself, I think," Enjolras said plainly, starting up the car. "It's not hard to see why."

"I'm staying at the Holiday Inn on American Avenue," Eponine didn't feel like discussing dysfunctional people and friendships. She had always idolized the Les Amis and it was hard for her to empathize with her gods.

"I know where that is, it's where we used to stay for the spring break concerts." Eponine's silence filled the car. She watched Enjolras' face shift while he realized what he had just said. "Why are you here? Where's the choir?"

Eponine sucked on her cheeks, debating whether she should reply or not. A man like Enjolras certainly wouldn't condone stealing. She decided to play on how pathetic he thought she was back when they went to school together. "Marius told me not to talk to him anymore. He's in love with the new choir director's daughter and doesn't want to be seen with me since I'll hurt his chances with her. I faked sick so that I wouldn't have to be around them."

Enjolras drummed his fingers on the steering console. "You should forget him," he said at last. "Bit of a pansy that one, anyway. You, you have spirit."

"Spirit?" Eponine was taken aback. She had expected him to yell or threaten to tell on her, but instead he was offering _compliments_?

"In the tree back there, you had.. passion? I don't know."

"I had to say _something. Y_ou were all trying to pile-drive me into the ground!"

"Yes, but what you said sparked the revolution! They're probably stabbing the senator who banned abortion right now!"

Eponine looked at her hands. Things were bad. The country was in a worse depression than the one back in the 1930's. Unemployment was over 20%, unions were being disbanded, and to top it all off the lower class made up almost half the population. Poverty and sickness and war were everywhere. In order to try and fix everything, the government had gone into lock down. Whoever was in charge at the time of the lock down was in charge indefinitely. The only way to get someone out of office was to wait for them to die, or to kill them. Eponine hadn't intended to murder someone, but she ended up doing so anyway. "You were going to make that dumb speech and people were to stone you guys." she said, trying to justify her first murder.

"You're right. The way they responded to you was incredible, though. You understand the way people think, you know what they need," Enjolras glanced back at Grantaire. "I never thought I'd say this, but I want you to join us."

"Me? I don't really think I'm Les Amis material."

"No, but you are! What Grantaire said before was right. You're the poster child of the oncoming storm. Marius used to talk about your problems all the time, you're perfect!"

"I'm still in high school, how am I supposed to join your political club from that far away?"

"Next year. I can talk to the college board, get you a scholarship. Of course, you'll have to keep your grades up when you're here, but we can help with that!"

"I pulled you away from the stabbing though-"

"Joining the Les Amis can count as what you owe me for that. If it ever happens again though..." he trailed off, scowling. Eponine knew it must have taken a lot for him to leave his friends and hold back his anger with her. He must have wanted her to join his club pretty bad.

"And the boys will be fine with it?"

"Come to the meeting tonight, then you can be introduced!"

"I'm here for choir, remember? It's not like I can just leave."

"It starts at midnight, when you sneak out, meet me in the parking lot."

Eponine sighed and pressed her head against the window. That jerk had an answer for everything. Not that free college would be a bad thing, but she hadn't planned on going to college at all. If she was lucky, she might have gotten a job back home and helped to put Gavroche and Azelma through high school. A college degree could mean the difference between making it or not in the long run though, and Eponine found the offer hard to refuse. Revolution wasn't really her thing, despite what Enjolras thought. Marius was her thing. If joining Enjolras meant risking life and limb, she wasn't so sure she wanted to agree. _Lie, _her gut said. _Take the scholarship and don't go to any rallies._

"Midnight?" she forced a smile. _Let him trust me, let him trust me, lethimtrustme_.

"Midnight," he confirmed, turning into the Holiday Inn parking lot. It was only early afternoon, so the school bus with her choir hadn't returned yet.

"Come on in, I need a quick favor of you if you want me to be able to sneak out again tonight."

Enjolras glanced at his watch, probably eager to get back to the mob before everything was shut down by the police. "How long?"

"It won't take a second." He followed her up the stairs to her room where she showed him the tape on her door. "When I close the door, can you tape it shut again?" She handed him the longer piece that had been stuck to the wall and crumpled the other half in her hand.

He took the piece from her and shook her hand. "I wish we could have had you in high school. Marius was too cruel to keep you all to himself."

"I'm not all rainbows and revolution, you know," she said before saluting him and closing her door. She ran to the window and waited for him to drive off before throwing herself down onto her bed and screaming into the hotel pillow. Slowly, she sat up and counted her money. It was still all there. Every bill of dishonesty. Morality was never her strongest suit, but she always felt a little queasy when she came to terms with what she had done throughout a day like that. If she was supposed to be the face of truth and justice for the oncoming revolution, then what did the face of lies and treachery look like?


	4. Chapter 4

It was almost ten-o-clock when Musichetta and Cosette returned. Eponine looked up from blow drying her pants to give them a little wave.

"What's that?" Cosette asked.

"I puked on them, so I tried to wash it out in the bathtub. They're my only pair." Eponine was actually trying to loosen the grass stains she'd gotten falling out of the tree. If anyone had been paying attention to her state of attire, they'd notice the new stains. The green had been a bitch to get out, and she'd have to wear her pants soaking wet to the midnight meeting.

Musichetta pulled a lacy dress from her suitcase. "I brought two because I wasn't sure what I wanted to wear tomorrow. You can borrow this one if you'd like. Didn't you pack any formal wear?"

Eponine accepted the dress gratefully. She didn't own anything half as nice. "I forgot we had the fancy gala thing. I don't think I've ever worn anything this pretty before, are you sure you don't want it?"

Musichetta waved her hand dismissively. "I think Joly is meeting us at there. My other dress is much more his style, if you know what I mean." She winked and pulled out a revealing little number that was all black and seduction. "I think I'll have to wear my hair down or else he'll just mess it up."

Cosette clapped her hands, an idea sparked by Musichetta's saucy comment. She sat down next to Eponine. "We should braid your hair so it's all wavy for tomorrow! I'll help you put it up and everything!"

"I don't know," Eponine ran her hand through her mouse brown hair. It was still damp from the shower she'd taken with her pants.

Musichetta sat down behind Eponine and began brushing it immediately while Cosette went to her bag for hair ties. "I've never been to a sleepover before," they said at the exact same time. Then, they looked at each other and laughed. Musichetta took a tie from Cosette and started a complicated up-do.

"It'll lay nicer tomorrow if we braid it the way it's going to be put up. Is this what you were thinking of doing, Cos?" she turned Eponine's head so Cosette could see. The girl murmured approval before grabbing some of Eponine's locks as well.

"I've only ever done my own hair. Papa let me give him pigtails when I was younger, but I don't think he'd appreciate it so much anymore." Everyone laughed at the idea of Mr. Valjean with bows in his hair.

"He must really love you," Eponine said, envy creeping into her voice. Her parents used to love her too. She used to think that if they were rich, they would love her again, but she didn't think those silly thoughts anymore. Like Enjolras had said, some people were sick, and Eponine couldn't think of any cures.

"Sit still," Musichetta ordered, making Eponine face the wall.

"Oh, he does. It's really stifling sometimes, but I can't imagine life without him. I'm adopted, you know?"

Eponine turned to look at Cosette again, messing up the braid Musichetta was working on and earning herself a jab from Chetta's thumb to turn back around. "No, I never knew that."

"I was taken away from my family by social workers when I was seven. My parents were abusive drug-addicts, and my school teacher found out when she saw the cigarette burn marks on the back of my neck." Eponine suddenly felt very conscious of the marks on _her_ neck and arms. She wished she weren't wearing a ratty tank top so she could hide them. The questions people asked her when they noticed were too hard to answer. "Papa came and got me a week later," Cosette continued. "Apparently those people who called themselves my parents weren't even my parents. My _real_ mother was a hooker out in LA who died of AIDS a month before I was turned over to Social Services."

This time when Eponine looked at Cosette, Musichetta didn't mind. "I'm sorry."

"I hardly remember any of it, it's fine. Papa says it took me a long time to trust him or anyone else, but I think he likes to exaggerate."

"People are awful."

"The point is, everything gets better," she put her hand on Eponine's. "I know where you come from, you can always ask me for help, okay?" Eponine nodded. How did Cosette of all people know about her situation? _Marius._ She wouldn't be going to Cosette for help. The girl couldn't possibley understand the circumstances she suffered. "Don't tell anyone about this, okay? Everyone else thinks I'm adopted from Russia or something."

"Of course."

Musichetta stuck one last bobby pin into Eponine's hair. "What do you think?"

The trio headed to the bathroom so Eponine could see too. "I'm going to feel bad taking it out tomorrow," Cosette said. Eponine was relieved when she saw herself. She looked like the girl she always imagined herself to be, instead of what she always saw in the mirror. Her long bangs had been pulled up into a plait, revealing her large, calf-brown eyes and high cheekbones. She was almost tempted to think herself pretty.

"Wow."

"Wow, indeed," Musichetta said, beaming with pride. "I hope it doesn't fall out."

"I'll be careful."

"Yes, Eponine. Sleep very carefully."

* * *

12 pm

Eponine pulled her t-shirt off over her hair as slowly as possible and then slipped into Musichetta's slinky dress. It was midnight blue with a scooping back that made even Eponine blush. She hoped she wouldn't get made fun of for looking like a bimbo. When Eponine slid the chain lock off of the door, Cosette sat straight up.

"Where are you going? It's midnight!" the girl hissed.

"I've got a date with Enjolras," Eponine stuttered. Cosette had never met Enjolras, but she'd heard all about him from the students who had. His reputation exceeded him, and it was Eponine's hope that Cosette could find it in her heart to believe that going on a date with the most popular boy who had ever existed was even a remote possibility.

"Why didn't you tell me? We could have done your make-up!"

Eponine let go of the breath she'd been holding in. "You're not going to tell your papa on me, then?"

"Are you kidding?" Cosette got out of bed, and Eponine saw that she was fully dressed as well. "Come here," Cosette smeared cherry red lipstick on Eponine's face.

"I need to go, but thank you!" Eponine extracted herself from Cosette's grip and ran out of the room. The elevator wasn't going down fast enough, so she stabbed the ground floor button a couple of times to make herself feel better. She had a lot of questions about the specifics of the scholarship Enjolras had promised, and she wanted to make sure she had time to ask them all before he was drunk with the spirit of revolution. When she got to the parking lot however, it wasn't Enjolras who waited for her, but Courfeyrac.

"Wow, you clean up nice." he whistled, getting up from the hood of a car.

"Where's Enjolras?"

"Did you get all dressed up for him? You know we're only going to a bar. It's not a date or anything."

Eponine tried to wipe the lipstick off with the back of her hand. "I'm not dressed up for anybody. This just happens to be what I'm wearing."

Courfeyrac took her arm, ever the gentleman, and lead her from the parking lot, "Enjolras is at the newspaper office trying to figure out what story they're going to send off tomorrow morning," he led her to a bus stop. "Here," he said, shrugging off his coat for her.

"I'm not cold."

"It's not for the weather. It's to cover yourself in."

Eponine didn't want to be rude, he was only trying to help, but if she was going to be a part of the Les Amis she didn't want them thinking of her as weak. "I'll be fine. I grew up in a big city like this."

"You were little then."

"So?"

"You're not exactly little now, if you catch my drift."

Eponine sighed in exasperation and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help you maintain your modesty here, no need to get upset. It's easier to hear coming from me than some creep."

"How do you know I don't think you're creepy? You barely know me. Half of me thinks you're kidnapping me and I should go back to find Enjolras."

Courfeyrac shrugged. "Do what you want, I was given the order to lead you to Musain, you don't have to follow me if you don't want to."

When the bus pulled up, Courfeyrac dropped his coat on the ground and ran onto the bus so that she'd have to pick it up. He smiled down at her like a goon, dropping in a few extra coins for her toll. Eponine mumbled some colorful words and sat eight seats away from him with his coat on the floor. Two stops later, an old man and and some swagged out chav were sitting on either side of her, leering. The old man had his arm around her seat, a sweaty palm brushing against her bare shoulder while practically inhaling her hair. The chav wasn't even trying to pretend he wasn't staring at her chest with his hand thrust deep into his pocket. Eponine threw the coat over her shoulders and went to sit next to Courfeyrac, who chuckled.

"Sexism and sexual harassment aren't jokes." Courfeyrac sobered up at her comment. Womens' rights were one of the many fights the Les Amis were spearheading.

"You sure are stubborn though. You let that guy jerk-off to you for a solid five minutes. I timed it."

They talked for a bit, mostly it was Courfeyrac, which was fine by Eponine because it showed those two creeps she had a friend and couldn't be harmed. She scooted closer to him when each man got off, lest they try and touch her. "Is this how the meeting's going to be too?"

"You sitting this close to me? I hope so. The last good gossip we had we when Joly got a bug bite and was convinced he had small pox."

She poked him in the ribs, "No, I mean people being perverts."

He looked genuinely offended by this. "The Les Amis are not _perverts_."

"You've been flirting with me since I sat next to you!"

"Nothing raunchy though! I'm a good boy! See?" He held up his hands, which had been resting on his knees. "I'm not even looking at you, I'm just making jokes! Marius must be a kitten if _I'm_ making you worried."

Eponine shook her head. "It's those two guys that were sitting next to me that freaked me out. Not that it's never happened to me before, but we're in a public place for god's sake!"

"You're a brother now. We promise to treat you like one," he crossed his heart. "Most of the guys there are nerds anyway. Bossuet is still in love with Musichetta who is in love with Joly, so that's two down,.Grantaire isn't to be taken seriously, Feuilly is respectable, Combeferre is a bookworm and super moral, Jehan is innocent, Bahorel is too busy being annoying to care, and I'm positively charming."

"What about Enjolras?"

Courfeyrac laughed, "Enjolras? You don't need to worry about Enjolras hitting on you. He's got one thing on his mind, and it isn't women. I wouldn't be surprised if he forgot your name with all he's got going on."

"He said he'd help me get into your guys' college."

"I would write him a note so he remembers."

The bus slow down and Courfeyrac nudged her shoulder. "This is it," he went down the stairs first and led her to a a nondescript building with a worn wooden sign outside of it, declaring it to be Cafe Musain. He held to door for her and tipped an invisible hat, "Milady."

Inside, any semblance of the meeting Eponine had been expecting was lost. Bahorel was arm wrestling with Feuilly, Grantaire was forcing Joly to take shots while Bossuet cheered them on, and Combeferre and Jehan were playing cards on the ground.

Courfeyrac went over to Combeferre and kicked his foot to get his attention. "I thought you were supposed to be heading the meeting!"

"Meeting's over. We talked about how today could have gone better and what our next move was. Enjolras is still at the newspaper, so it's not like we have that much new information to go over."

Courfeyrac waved Eponine over. "This is 'Ponine. She's the one from the tree today."

He shook her hand. "I'm Combeferre. You wanna play cheat with us? I'm getting tired of spit." Both Eponine and Courfeyrac sat down to form a circle. When the other boys saw what was going on, they all stopped what they were doing so that they could join. Jehan sighed and collected all the cards again to re-deal for the growing number of players. Eponine won the first and second games, earning her very near the rest of the money she needed. Halfway through the third round though, Enjolras burst in, newpsaper in hand. He slammed the door shut.

"Combeferre, honestly, I was gone for forty-five minutes." Combeferre's face turned bright red. Enjolras' bad side was not a place you wanted to be. Eponine was surprised he wasn't yelling. He looked tired, was all. There were deep purple sleep circles under his eyes she hadn't noticed earlier. His hair hung limp against his forehead, like he'd been caught in the rain for hours. Everyone got up and took a chair quietly.

"Eponine, come here." She got up nervously. What if he was planning to rescind all of his offers and send her back? He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder and then removed it when he relieved it was bare. "Eponine is going to be joining us in the fight next year. After today's events, I probably don't have to tell you why," he unfurled the newspaper. On the front cover was a picture of the protesters storming the capitol building and another grainy one of Eponine provoking the crowd with Enjolras by her side. The headline read, "SENATOR SLAUGHTERED".

"So, you guys killed him then?" Eponine felt like she was going to be sick. It was her fault. Enjolras sent her back to her seat next to Jehan.

"_We_, as in the Les Amis de l'ABC, didn't kill him," Combeferre corrected. "By the time we go to the front door everyone had already barricaded it and we couldn't get through. The police started shooting into the crowd so we ran. We didn't bring any arms to the protest, it was all we could really do."

"They killed five people," Enjolras growled. He lit the paper on fire and let it burn in his hand. The acrid smell of burning paper filled everyone's noses. "The media doesn't even mention the citizen deaths. All they care about is that swine we cut free from power. The senator killed hundreds, by forcing them to self-administer abortions, throwing themselves down stairs or going into back alleys with coat hangers. No one ever mentions them. All we get is this," He thrusted the burning paper into the air, the flames licking his fingers now. Suddenly, he dropped the paper to the ground and crushed it underfoot before it could char the flooring. "I think I speak for all of us when I say I'm tired of it." All of the boys cheered.

Eponine leaned over to Grantaire, "Killing people doesn't solve our problems, it just makes people dead," she whispered.

Grantaire clapped her on the back and smiled. "Good philosophy."

"What was that?" the Les Amis quieted down to hear what Enjolras was saying. He repeated his question.

Eponine shook her head. "Nothing. I didn't say anything."

"She _said_, 'killing people doesn't solve our problems, it just makes people dead.'" Eponine kicked Grantaire from under the table. Enjolras was going to throw her out now for sure.

"This fascist pig isn't in power anymore, it's a victory. This is a revolution, people may die. _We_ may die."

"I get that. That's not what I'm concerned about. I don't care that he's dead, I care that that's all_ you_ care about. Now that he's dead, who's going to replace him? Another fascist pig. This isn't going to be like _The Newsies_. We can't just sing and dance our way through this reformation."

"Obviously. It's hard change to make. The people will decide who to put on the senator's throne. Someone with their interests in mind."

"And who's that? Everyone in politics is a rich elitist! Everyone with an education is a rich elitist. No one who's a candidate for the seat has our interests in mind."

"Then, how do you think we can change that?"

Eponine shook her head. She could see the problems, but she didn't have any solutions. That was supposed to be Enjolras' job. He pulled up a chair next to her and Combeferre. The gentle din of conversation flowed over her. She hadn't been kicked out of the group, against all odds. She was going to get a scholarship to go to college. She still had four days to make Marius love her. It was all going to be okay. She didn't care about the meeting anymore and just wanted to get back before Cosette got worried she was kidnapped or something.

Around 2am, Grantaire was shaking her awake. Only he and Enjolras remained. "Time to go home. The bus doesn't run this late, so I'm going to drive you."

"I saw you taking shots less than an hour ago, I'll walk."

"Enjolras is going to drive you," Grantaire amended.

"Ready, R?" he was holding the cafe door for them. Eponine noticed how this scene resembled that which had occurred earlier at the coffee shoppe.

"Do you guys live together?" It was weird that they would fight but still hang around and drive each other around.

"Neighbors," Enjolras said while Grantaire replied, "Sometimes," at the same time.

"When he locks himself out or forgets which apartment is his, he breaks in and sleeps in my bathtub," Enjolras explained. Eponine followed them out to the hatchback. She was jealous of their friendship and wished she and Marius were that way. She doubted that if she were to fight with Marius he'd get over it as quickly as Enjolras did. At the hotel, Enjolras parked and followed Eponine into the lobby to replace the tape on her door. They took the stairs upon his request.

"Why do you still live with your parents if you're emancipated?" he asked suddenly on the second floor, breaking the awkward silence with an awkward question.

"What?"

"Today, you talked about them hurting you, but Marius said you got emancipated, so why are you still hanging around?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," he put his hands in his pockets and his head down. Combeferre hadn't given him enough credit when he said Enjolras wouldn't even remember her name.

Eponine sighed, changing her mind. "Where am I supposed to go? I've got siblings. They need me."

"That's honorable, I guess."

"It sucks."

"Why don't you go to the police?"

She was surprised he would think formal authority could help her. Eponine didn't want to talk about all the reasons going to the police would be a bad idea, so she changed the subject, "Can I have your number?"

"Oh, uh. Eponine, I respect you, but I should have you know, I consider myself married to my work."

"I want it so that I can call you about the scholarship thing. No offense, but Marius..."

"Right, of course!" he was blushing furiously at his mistake. "It's 555-0704. Like July fourth."

Eponine smiled at the simile. When they got to her room though, her smile fell. The tape she'd broken was whole, as if she had never left. "Weird." Enjolras taped her back in all the same.

After putting her night clothes back, pulling a few of the bobby pins out in the process. She laid down next to Cosette, and smelled something familiar. moving closer to Cosette and inhaled deeper, she remembered what it was. _Marius. _The smell was him. She would have recognized it anywhere. That was why Cosette had been fully dressed, Eponine deduced. She had snuck out to visit someone as well. _Eponine's someone. _Despite the kindness Cosette ha displayed over the past two days, Eponine was still able to hate her.


	5. Chapter 5

Marius was a tenor and Eponine was an alto which meant that during the mixed madrigals, they had to stand next to one another. All during rehearsal, Cosette was passing Eponine notes to give to Marius, which she sometimes confiscated depending on their contents. Her left boob was bulging with the paper she'd kept from him. The only part of the concert that she enjoyed was at the end when everyone was supposed to hold hands and sing 'The Lord Bless you and Keep you'. When Mr. Valjean made the announcement that alumni were invited to sing along, Eponine was surprised to see half of the Amis stand and join her choir on stage. Before yesterday, they hadn't even been aware the choir was in town. Enjolras must have spilled the beans. She couldn't imagine why he'd want to see his old choir again now that only Marius and Jehan remained. Back in high school he never took either very seriously. The former didn't care enough about all the causes and the latter wrote poems in the margins of the pamphlets during meetings.

Enjolras was the last on stage, completing the circle. He was directly across Eponine and staring straight at her even though it was tradition to close your eyes while you sang the song. She looked to Marius to see if she could read his thoughts on the matter, but his head was already bowed. She slipped her sweaty in his, and he intertwined his fingers in hers, which was definitely not the way you'd hold the hand of a platonic friend. It didn't matter anymore that Enjolras and his pals were being total creeps by crashing the concert. She forgot her part and switched to soprano when Marius squeezed her hand, hitting notes in the stratosphere she didn't know were in her range. The song ended though, and he was the first to let go. He was giving Courfeyrac the secret Amis handshake before she could even open her eyes. She followed after him.

"You really need to meet Cosette," he was saying, looking around for her, but she must have gone off to the bathroom or something. "She's just so cute and smart and pretty, and she passed me this note today," he handed Enjolras a stack of torn notebook paper, "she was the one in the white sundress, she looks like-" he glanced at Eponine, just noticing that she was standing next to him. "How would you describe her, pony?"

"She looks like you," Eponine said. His face, his smell, his voice, everything about him, she loved in the same way he loved everything about Cosette. Her meaning wasn't lost on Enjolras who cocked an eyebrow at her. He probably couldn't imagine how someone might still be in love with someone who's snuffed them on several occasions.

Marius shook his head. "She looks nothing like me. She's got this long blond rabbit-soft hair and she's positively gorgeous no matter what, even when she's sick, when she comes back-"

Enjolras put his hand on Marius' shoulder and shoved the notes back in his arms. "Pontemercy. I don't care."

Courfeyrac punched him in the arm playfully. "Come on, Enjy, it's not like he talks about girls that often. Be nice." Enjolras rolled his eyes and Courfeyrac lead Marius away so that they could go and see the elusive Cosette together.

Eponine stood dumbly with Enjolras, unsure of what to say. After a moment he held out his hand. "You should give the rest of the notes to me. Lord knows that fire doesn't need anymore fuel."

She blushed, "You saw me stealing them?"

Enjolras stuffed them into his coat pocket. "Not at first. It wasn't until the last few that Courf pointed it out. You're good. Where'd you learn to do that? Marius was looking right at you and he didn't see."

She shook her head. He always asked the worst questions. What if he knew what she was and he just wanted her to say it? "You pick things up when you've got a family like mine."

"Oh," he didn't seem prepared for the family comment. Marius didn't like to be reminded of where she came from either, but it was probably just because he didn't like to hear her complain. "I'm going to talk to the board tomorrow and see about that scholarship. If they won't give it to you, I can see if our resident nerd hacker can change a few numbers around for you."

"What are you going to say to them? My grades and attendance are pretty unimpressive."

"Combeferre can fix that. I came here to find Jehan. See if I can get him to write some flowery words about you. Catch more flies with honey than with vinegar and all that. I'll call you when we get it all sorted out."

Eponine wrapped her arms around herself. It was really uncomfortable how nice he was being. She wasn't used to kind words in general, but the entire time she'd known him, he'd been distant, his friendship exclusive. She wasn't sure if they were friends as Marius was the only friend she'd ever had, and he hadn't been much of an example lately. The day before Enjolras had flat out told her that she would help his plan. That was it. She was just part of his agenda. You don't bite the hand that feeds you, so he was being kind. The five-year-old in her wanted to ask if they could be friends, just so that she knew there was someone else to count on besides herself. She wouldn't though. That would come off as needy. Besides, the only person she could really trust was herself. And Marius. Sometimes.

"I haven't got a phone. I'll call you in a few days to check up, okay?"

Enjolras nodded and held out his hand for her to shake. She put her fist in it and he naturally did the secret Les Amis handshake he did with the rest of his friends. After the shoulder bump, he gave her a weird look. "Where'd you learn that?"

"Marius."

Enjolras rubbed his temples. "That boy. I need to have a serious talk with him. Did you see which way he and Courf went?"

Eponine nodded over to the bathroom where he was holding hands with Cosette the way he hand been with her during last song. She would bet her life savings though, that Cosette's hand wasn't sweaty or trembling with nerves.

As soon as Enjolras left her, Musichetta was at her arm. "So. Chief Blondie, huh?"

"Did Cosette tell you?" Eponine faked a shy smile. Seeing Marius with that _thing_ on his arm had been a punch to the stomach, but she couldn't allow Musichetta see how much she felt for him, or else she might tear right through Eponine's web of lies and ruin everything.

"I didn't know you guys were even friends! Joly never mentioned you. What do I know though? This morning when I saw all the missing bobby pins and the smeared lipstick, I had my suspicions about last night, but until Cosette told me, I thought you had snuck out with Marius. But ENJOLRAS, of all people! Wow. You just took the cake 'Ponine. He's a catch. What'd you guys do last night?"

Eponine had been nodding along absently to all that Musichetta was saying and missed the question. "What?"

"I'm not one to kiss and tell," she flattened her hair, obviously she'd already had that meeting with Joly, "but, I mean, it's Enjolras. What's he like? How far did you guys go? You can't keep this to yourself, for the sake of girls everywhere, please at least tell me what he tastes like!"

"Oh, uh," Eponine looked over at Enjolras. He had his arms folded across his chest and looked ready to punch someone. Sure, he was handsome, but he was also intimidating, and definitely not Eponine's type. She'd spent all of two seconds convincing Cosette that he was her's and hadn't thought any deeper into the lie so as to convince Musichetta. "Don't tell anyone, but, uh, _I've been walking funny all day, if you know what I mean,"_ she whispered.

Musichetta slapped Eponine's arm. "Shut. Up. You did not! Ohmygoodness! Wow. Wow. Wowowowow! I promise I will never tell anyone as long as I live."

"Not even Joly."

"Especially not Joly! Eponine, do you know how big this is? You slept with Enjol-freak-ras. Was he any good? Obviously he was. Oh geez. Do you love him?"

"No," Eponine didn't think she could pretend to love anyone other than Marius.

"That's fair. You like him though, right? He didn't take advantage of you or anything?"

"No, it really nice. He was a total gentleman. Dinner, candles, everything.

"Joly makes me dinner too, but mostly because he doesn't like other people preparing his food. So, that's it then? You and Marius don't have a thing? We've all just been imagining it?"

"Yeah. We're just friends," it hurt Eponine to say it when she knew it might be true.

"Good! I'll go let Cosette know. She didn't want to be a homewrecker or anything."

_Of course she didn't,_ Eponine thought. _Then why was she out with him last night? _

"I've gotta go say bye to Joly," Musichetta said, winking and practically skipping away.

Eponine sat alone in the audience and waited for Mr. Valjean to give the order to load back on the bus. _Two more months, and then I'm out. I can leave all of this behind. _She was still apprehensive about leaving Gavroche and Azelma, but looking around the room, she wasn't sure if she would even be able to handle another two months with the way her life was, much less several years. No one besides herself knew who she really was and what she really thought. She was tired of lying to cover up her tracks. Leaving home didn't mean coming clean about her past, but if she could get out of her situation, maybe Marius would see some worth in her and she could make more friendships that weren't based solely on lies. But for the next two months she was going to have to suffer alone. As usual.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm separating the next 2-3 chapters into before and after. So the first part of each chapter is chronological and then the last half of each chapter matches up in the order they go in. I don't know if that makes sense, so I hope it makes sense when you read it. If you have any questions or you're confused about something, feel free to PM me or leave a comment, and I can try and help you out.**

_**1st Semester (9 months later)**_

Meetings were held sporadically, but often. In the beginning, Eponine hadn't minded going to them, but lately work was getting in the way. It had taken her forever to find a job because of her criminal record, and she always got the latest shifts at the Taco Bell. The other Amis worked in bookstores and as office aides, places that didn't stay open long enough to serve Fourth Meal, so they always scheduled their gatherings late in the evening when their work and studying was done. Sometimes they stopped in and ordered burritos to catch her up on details of the meetings she missed, but she could tell Enjolras was getting tired of her poor attendance because he would always sulk in the corner rather than stuff his face with hot sauce.

It was late in the evening when she ran into him in the courtyard after her last class. He glared at her before stalking away.

Eponine caught his elbow, "Hey, wait," he turned to face her, even angrier than before. "What's going on?"

"I don't know why don't _you_ tell_ me_?"

"We haven't studied since I got here."

"You haven't helped with our plans since you got here."

"That's not my fault! I have to send money home!"

"Your parents can provide for your siblings."

"You know they can't," she crossed her arms. "Don't be so unreasonable."

"If we have the revolution _you_ started, your parents would be able to provide for them."

"They wouldn't."

"But think of everyone else! Eponine, we worked hard to have you with us. You're not keeping your end of the bargain."

She was to tired to deal with his bullshit. "So, you're saying I should quit my job, let my siblings starve, forget about getting a an education, and spend my nights in some bar planning a revolution that will probably get me killed?"

"No! I mean, yes. You're being dramatic about it, but yes."

"How is that even remotely dramatic? That's what you're asking of me, isn't it?"

"I'm asking you to give what you can, and at least what you promised."

Eponine chewed her cheek. She needed his help, or else she would fail her classes and lose the scholarship. "Then give me what you promised. I'll call in sick tonight and come to the meeting if you help me with my final essay in American Language."

He shook his head. "I've got to get to class and prepare for the meeting, can we do it later?"

"You know, I don't think I'm feeling that sick after all," She didn't trust him to study with her later. The few times he helped her in the start of the semester he did a shit job of spell checking because he was distracted by upcoming protest and then he left after only a half hour when Combeferre called.

"This isn't going to work on me every time, you know," he said sitting dejectedly in the grass. "You're not completely irreplaceable." Eponine was surprised he was okay with sitting outside at twilight with her. She took him as the sort who would want a hard wooden chair and a hundred watt bulb in a secluded area where no one would know he associated with people like her. "What do you need help with?"

She let her backpack fall from her arm. and sat next to him. "My final essay."

"I know. What part of it?"

"Oh," she flipped open her notebook. A good quarter of it was notes, but she only had a page and a half worth of essay. She tore them out. "This is what I have so far."

Enjolras scanned over it quickly with his highlighter. When he gave it back to her, half of it was yellow.

"What does the yellow mean?"

"It's what you need to fix."

Everything except for the conjunctions and linking verbs were highlighted. "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

"Do you remember the T.I.E.D. method from English class? You'd do well to apply it."

"Is that all?"

"Your introduction spelling, and punctuation could use some serious work, but I think we should focus on body and word choice right now."

"So you'll help me?"

"I'm sitting here, aren't I? Where are your notes?" She gave them to him and he whistled. "When's this due?"

"A week and a half."

"Shit," he layed on his stomach and started to highlight her notes as well. After each page he would tear it out of the notebook and explain why he'd selected the pieces that he had. "In this type of essay you're required to make, on average, two to three points. Whatever you write should be debatable but throughout its entirety you'll be explaining why your side is in the right. You've got a lot of information here, so we need to narrow it down to fit the three main arguing points."

"Do you do this a lot?"

"Most of the Amis don't ask for help with their homework, or if they do, not from me."

"No, I mean writing three point essays."

"Not anymore. After that day in the tree I stopped, except for writting petitions. Screaming memorable slogans at people seems to work better." Eponine smiled a little at that. "Of course, you'd know that, if you came to any meetings."

She poked him in the side with the butt of the highlighter. "I'm coming tonight, jerk."

He waved her off. "Enough, you need to get this written. Look over what I marked and show me what you think should go in the first section." Eponine marked a few statistics and quotes while Enjolras nodded along, pointing out ones she missed and explaining why they ought to go along with the first part. "Alright, now imagine you've written an amazing introduction that introduces Topic One. We're going to skip the first sentence, since it'll be transitory and you don't know what you'll be transitioning from. Then you write a your topic sentence, introduce the fact, write the fact, explain the fact, and draw the fact back to the thesis statement you wrote in your introduction. You can introduce multiple related facts in the same paragraph to save time and space and to avoid becoming repetitive."

"When you talk to people in real life, you only tell them the facts. Why do I have to explain what the facts mean twice in my writing? The reader's going to lose interest."

"Not if you explain it well."

"I can barely write."

"I know," he ran a hand through his blonde curls. It was dark and they hadn't written anything yet. Eponine couldn't tell if he was frustrated because she was stupid or if it was because he was missed his class and wasn't preparing for the meeting. "I don't want to tell you what to write, because that's cheating."

"I'm sorry I'm so dumb."

"It's not your fault," he said, not denying she was stupid. "I just wish we had more time. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I've got a ten hour shift starting at eight."

"Okay, and the rest of your week?"

"I'll email you when I get back to my dorm."

"Alright. I want to finish at least one paragraph tonight. We can finish the first and second topics later and then do the third along with the introduction and conclusion another time." It took them twenty minutes to write the first paragraph. Enjolras, despite not wanting to help her cheat, told her exactly what to write every other sentence. Eponine for her part tried to paraphrase what he said so that it sounded like her voice, but nothing came out quite right. It seemed like Enjolras' way was the only way. When they were done he helped her up before dusting himself off.

"We're meeting at Musain at eleven tonight. You've got about an hour."

"Thanks. See you then."

"Musichetta works there, you know."

Eponine went red, remembering the lie she told Musichetta about her and Enjolras. Knowing Chetta, she'd probably asked if they were still an item or mentioned it in some way. "I'm sorry for lying to her. I had to."

Enjolras gave her a weird look. "I was just going to say you should ask her for a job. Then you could attend meetings _and_ work. Why? What'd you lie about?"

"Oh, nothing. It's not a big deal.

"Really? Because you looked kind of scared for a second there."

"I told her you and I had a thing when she caught me sneaking out last spring," Eponine muttered quietly, hoping he wouldn't understand what she said.

Enjolras laughed, "And she believed you?"

"I know! Right?" she was relieved he wasn't angry.

"You should tell her the truth tonight though. That must be why she's always asking me how you are."

"Right, yeah. What do you tell her when she asks, since you haven't talked to me in weeks?"

"Just that you can take care of yourself."

"Too true."

* * *

_**2nd Semester**_

Montparnasse undid the chain lock when he saw who was knocking at his door.

"'Ponine. Babe. It's been too long. What can I do you for?"

Eponine smiled as seductively as she could. She was only going to get one chance, and she didn't want to blow it. If he decided he didn't like her, he would phone her parents or make an anonymous call to the police, and that would be it.

"I heard you lived in the area. Just wanted to say hey."

He blew his cigarette smoke in her face. "I don't believe you. Come on in."

The place wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be. The layout was the same as Enjolras' and Grantaire's since it was in the same building, so she knew it wasn't going as gross as the last apartment he'd rented before she even came.

"I'm surprised at you. Thernardiers don't ask for help. Isn't there a rule against this?"

"Who says I'm asking for help?"

He offered her a smoke, which she accepted gratefully "Don't lie to a liar. I've known you were in this city and going to that university the entire time. I've been keeping an eye out for you, okay? And I know you've known of my presence since I got here as well. So why are you coming to me now? You miss me?" he circled around her, hand on her waist.

"More than you can imagine," she put her hand over his so that he'd stop moving it around. He was eyeing her up like a predator. Taking her touch as encouragement and plucking her cigarette from her mouth to kiss her. His fingers dug into her sides and he bit her lip.

"So what'dya want from me?"

She slid her hand down his forearm and into his, taking her cigarette back. "I was wondering if you were in the market for a roommate," She inhaled deeply, letting the smoke sting her lungs for a while, if just to know she wasn't actually having a nightmare.

"I definitely think that could be arranged." he pressed her against the wall. It was difficult to ascertain whether he was trying to arouse her or perform a breast exam. She kept squeezing her toes together and reminded herself to breathe. Focusing on anything except for how scared she was was hard, but she tried. Sleeping in a bed, eating food, taking showers, she would give _anything_ to have it all back. Montparnasse was fucked up, but he could provide it for her. It would only cost her her dignity, which wasn't anything new.

She took off her shirt for him since he seemed to be having trouble, and then moved to the couch. When he tried to undo her belt buckle, she swatted his hands away and undid his instead. She'd been with him before, and she'd seen how he used his other plaything. If she wanted to live in his apartment for more than a month, she was going to have to pace him, so he wouldn't get bored.

Eponine could feel him giving her hickeys all along her collarbone. It was his calling card, it let other men know she was claimed. She thought of Marius who had followed Cosette to the same university as the rest of the Amis. Everyone else thought it was coincidence, but she knew it was for that girl. If he saw the marks, he would either be horrified by her or pity her. Nothing helpful. Never helpful. Not since he met the beauty. He would tell Cosette and they would send her a fruit basket or something. Montparnasse moved her hands towards his crotch. Her muscles tensed before she remembered herself and did as he instructed. This was what she signed up for when she knocked on his door. Being a whore was better than being homeless.


	7. Chapter 7

**1st Semester**

After eight hours of wishing people a saucsome and tacotastic day, Eponine spent her night in the library with Enjolras. She finished her essay on her own two nights prior when she got back to her dorm. As usual, he was less than helpful with proofreading, but on this occasion it was because he was half asleep. Not that she could blame him. She suspected plotting to overthrow the American government was easier said than done.

"It's fine, you don't have to read it." If he was going to half-ass editing her paper, she rather he didn't try at all.

"Are you sure?" Enjolras touched his black eye for the hundredth time, as if making sure it still

hurt.

"Yeah, we should probably start on my statistics anyway."

"Oh," clearly he'd been hoping to go home and sleep off the beating the police gave him for picketing

the new anti-gun laws. "All of statistics or..."

"The confidence interval business. I don't understand how that all works."

"Okay," he rested his head in his arms, relieved he wouldn't be teaching an entire subject again. "Give me your book. I took this four years ago." He read through it slowly, sometimes blinking for so long Eponine thought he'd dozed off. Eventually, he closed the book quietly and tilted his head to the ceiling. "Let me think of how to explain this to you," absently, he rubbed his still bleeding palms together. He must have scraped them when they pushed him to the ground. Eponine wondered how he stopped himself from becoming violent. If he threw a punch, it would be considered assault on law enforcement, and he would be in jail without bail.

"Alright, so, the probability of any event is between zero and one. However, nothing can be 100 percent certain, which is why confidence intervals were established. Confidence intervals generally give you two numbers where the average of data can lie. This confidence interval can never be at 100 percent, as it is impossible to give a number range that accounts for every probability besides negative infinity to infinity, which means nothing. If we were to have confidence intervals of 100 percent, the margin of error would be so wide that nothing would be accurate. We need this doubt to decrease error. Does that answer your question?"

"Woah, calm down there, Jehan!"

"What?"

"Who knew Enjol-freaking-ras was a poet?! That was a beautiful philosophy on how to live life."

"I just taught you what a metaphor was the other night."

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate one when I see it! I wish I could write down what you just said and publish it!"

He scowled, "Are you mocking me?"

"Sweetie, you'd know if I was mocking you."

"Okay, whatever. Let's do some problems so I can go to bed," he thought for a moment before writing in her notebook. "Solve this one first," Enjolras tapped a set of numbers.

"Is it going to turn out right? You didn't take it from the book."

"Yes. I did it in my head."

"In thirty seconds?"

"I know. I'm great. Such a poet. Do the problem." He put his head back down on the table and closed his eyes. Eponine chewed her eraser , she borrowed someone else's calculator since she couldn't afford her own. Enjolras might have been able to do math in his head, but she didn't know where to begin.

At the sound of the library doors closing, she looked up. Courfeyrac and Grantaire entered, giggling with one another. Eponine waved them over, maybe she could get them to lure Enjolras away before he found out exactly how stupid she was Originally, she thought he would be a nice, quiet tutor who worked for free. Whenever she saw him now, all she could think of was how uneducated she must appear. Not that she cared what he thought of her, bust she didn't want him talking about her behind her back like Marius did.

Courfeyrac leaned in closely to his friend's ear and blew hot breath on his cheek while Grantaire stroked Enjolras' spine.

"Hey, Enjy," they cooed in school-girl unison. Enjolras shot out of his chair, knocking Courfeyrac's jaw.

"The hell, you guys!?"

They both fell into a fit of laughter, Courfeyrac holding his chin, and Grantaire his belly like he was Santa Clause. "We got a bunch of chalk from the dollar store, want to write on things?" Courf asked when he finally calmed down.

Enjolras sat back down and reached for Eponine's notebook. "Did you finish the problem?"

She closed it before he could see. "Yup. It's really easy now, thanks."

"Enjolras is tutoring you?" Grantaire pulled up a chair and sat in in backwards. "He said it'd be cheating to help with my homework! What? You see a pretty girl and suddenly you forget all your rules?"

Enjolras flipped his hood up and pouted. "I'm not doing this with you again. You're only picking this fight now because you want her to hear it."

Eponine chewed her cheek_, they'd fought about me?_

Grantaire patted her hand to get her attention. "He came home so late the other night, I thought maybe he found someone. When he told me he was studying with you, I couldn't help but wonder if it was a euphemism for something," he put his tongue in his cheek and flicked his eyes in Enjolras' direction.

"Yeah, it was a euphemism for Eponine is an idiot and he was helping her study"

"A euphamism is-" Eponine tossed her pencil at Enjolras so it hit him in the chest.

"I know what a goddamn euphemism is, jerk.I do have some grasp on the English language, you know."

Courfeyrac laughed and ruffled Enjolras' hair. "You're too hard on her. Eponine is great! She should help us write naughty words on things. What say you, Ep?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"How about, The Odds are Never in Your Favor," he ran his hand in and arc above his head, as if announcing something grand.

Enjolras pressed his lips together. "Isn't that a hunger games thing?"

"You're into pop culture?" Grantaire gasped.

"Absolutely not. I hear that stupid phrase everywhere. I don't have time to read silly girl books."

"It's not silly, it's about revolution."

"Either way, the phrase is no good. It's not inspiring, it's depressing. We want to get people mad and bring them to action."

"The cake is a lie," Grantaire suggested.

"No, I hate that video game.

"That's only because you always die. It's a great phrase, regardless. It references Marie Antoinette and the French Revolution, which is pretty similar to ours. Also, it reference how the government says things are getting better, but they aren't. It's deep."

Courfeyrac nodded his head while Enjolras shook his.

"How about Liberté, égalité, fraternité, ou la mort?" Everyone looked at Eponine.

"Where'd you learn that?"

"I took French with Marius for four years."

"It's perfect," Enjolras grabbed a couple sticks of chalk.

They headed out, Grantaire and Eponine taking North and South campus while Courfeyrac and Enjolras took the rest. Once the boys were out of earshot, Grantaire attacked Eponine with questions.

"What's going on between you two? Is he taking drugs? Will you elope?"

"What?"

Grantaire started writing on a building in big sloppy letters, 'STOP DOING THE THING :(' "The only girl he stays out past 8:30 for is Lady Liberty."

"I'm not just some girl though, remember? I'm on of the Amis."

"Right, but last week he liked he less than he like Pontemercy, so what happened."

"Nothing, we just studied."

"No, you're emailing each other too!"

"You go through his email?"

"Absolutely not, that'd be creepy. He left his computer open when he was taking a shower and I peeked."

"We were emailing about school. He wants me to get caught up so that I can go to more meetings."

"So there's nothing going on between you guys?"

"Only academics. Why do you care so much? Wouldn't it be good for him to have a girlfriend? He seems so tense." Grantaire drew a huge penis in front of the admissions building. "No, not political enough," Eponine fixed it by labeling it 'GOVERNMENT' and drawing a stick person preparing to suck it labeled 'YOU'.

Grantaire laughed, "You're good at this."

"We should really start to write that French shit, or else Enjolras will get pissy."

"He's such a nerd." There was a shout in the distance. "Speak of the devil. I bet he remembered he had homework to do or something." They both started running towards the noise, snickering at the thought. Eponine pulled Grantaire back into a doorway when she saw Enjolras. He was pressed face first against a wall by a very tall man.

"I think it's the police," she hissed.

"What! Why?"

"Vandalism, revolution, hello?"

"We've got to go help him!"

Eponine shook her head. "He'll take it as a threat and then we'll all be jailed."

"All for one and one for all," he turned to leave again.

"Wait!" she grabbed the back of his shirt. "Let me do it, you look too scary, with all your hair and muscles. If he tries to arrest me, or calls for back up then you come. Text Courf, see where he's at." before Grantaire could stop her, she was running across the green.

"Hey, baby, who's your friend?" she was out of breath and holding a stitch in her side.

The officer nodded at her. "I'm an officer ma'am. Do you know this hooligan?" he pressed Enjolras into the wall a little harder, knocking the air from his lungs. Eponine bit her lip. If she screwed this up, he could end up seriously hurt. The law didn't care about justice like it used to. Now it was all about keeping people in line. Of course, the officer was a male, and men still worked the same way. She'd gotten herself out of enough speeding tickets to know that.

"'Course. I 'know' _all_ about him," she said with a coy wink. "That's what college is all about, right? Getting to know people." Now, she glanced at the wall Enjolras had been vandalizing. She sighed theatrically, a plan forming. "Really babe? I spelled out what you were supposed to write so you wouldn't mess it up," Kneeling, she added the word 'petite' between la and mort. "If you don't add the petite, it's creepy, not funny. We're trying to make people laugh here, not start a mob."

"Ma'am that's vandalism," the officer loosened up his grip on Enjolras, who's nose was bleeding and face badly scraped. He moved closer to Eponine.

"It's chalk," she twirled the stick between her fingers. "It comes right off with water. It's supposed to rain tomorrow afternoon anyway."

"It's inappropriate and offensive."

"C'est la vie, eh?" she took a chance and stepped closer to the officer, running her fingers lightly down the underside of his forearm. He dropped Enjolras and tipped his hat to her, visibly uncomfortable by her forwardness.

"I'm going to give you a warning tonight. Go home immediately, if I catch you defacing property again, I will personally make sure you and your friend get full fines and jail time."

Eponine waited until the officer was out of sight to look at Enjolras. "You okay, babe?"

He wiped his nose, "Don't ever call me that again."

"You're welcome on the ass-saving."

"I was fine, I was handling it."

"You were about to become someone's prison bitch."

Grantaire met them, out of breath "What the hell just happened?"

"I convinced the po-po to leave Enjolras alone."

"She seduced him like a fiendish vixen."

"I wish I were a girl so that I could do that," Grantaire sighed. "Courf's going to be here in a minute," he held up his cell phone. Eponine took it from him and shined it on Enjolras who was slouched against the wall, still trying to stop his nose bleed. She squatted next to him and tried to push his hair off of his forehead so she could see his scrapes.

He flinched away from her touch as if it burned. "What're you doing?"

"_Helping,_ Jesus Christ, Enjolras. You've got a bunch of rocks and shit in your cuts, it's going to get infected."

"Leave me alone, you're only going to make it worse."

"I promise I'll only look, okay?" He didn't move, so she shined the light on him again. Carefully this time, she tilted his chin. There was a little pebble stuck on his temple, so she picked it out, making him hiss in pain.

"You said you were only going to look."

"Fiendish vixen, remember?"

Courfeyrac jogged up, "'Taire said you were in some sort of trouble?"

"I'm fine."

He whistled when he saw his friend's new injuries. "You don't look it. That's embarassing, man."

"Why is it embarrassing?" Eponine dropped Enjolras' chin and gave Grantiare his phone back.

"That's the second time he's been beaten up today. Makes him look weak, no offense, bro," he offered a hand to help Enjolras up. "I mean, we all know it's better to not fight back at this point, but it looks bad on the Amis, especially when their leader gets jumped during a silly little prank. People will think we can't handle ourselves or something."

Enjolras nodded. "I'm not going to class tomorrow."

"What? You never skip class!" Courfeyrac exclaimed

"Well, not never," Grantaire winked at Eponine.

"You're right. It'll look bad on us if people see me like this. They'll lose faith in the cause. They won't trust us."

"Or," Eponine said, rolling her eyes at his dramatics, "They'll see how much you care about the cause and how terrible and corrupt the police are."

"I'll think about it. Grantaire, do you have your keys? I don't want you over tonight."

"Are we going to finish this, then?" Courfeyrac held up his box of chalk.

Eponine gave him the rest of her sticks. "I don't want to risk being arrested. That guy sounded pretty serious. My record is fucked up enough."

"I'm getting a migraine. If I stay out any longer I'm going to puke," Enjolras held a bloody hand to his head and started stumbling in the direction of his apartment.

"Grantaire?" Courfeyrac held the box out to his friend expectantly.

"Yeah, I'm still game," he looked to Eponine, his face unfathomable. "You take Enjolras home, okay? I don't want him dead in the stairwell when I get back."

She nodded, half wishing Marius were as caring as Grantaire and half wishing she could go to bed instead of walking Enjolras across campus. "Wait up blondie," she called out. "Your boyfriend wants me to walk you home." Enjolras turned to give her a baleful look, but stopped. She grabbed his coat sleeve to keep him from tipping over. "Do you have a concussion?"

"I don't know. Probably."

Eponine was quiet a moment. He seemed more angry at himself than at the guy who jumped him. She wondered how long he'd been fighting this battle he couldn't win. "Do you really think this is all worth it?"

Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply, trying to let a wave of pain pass. "It has to be," he said through gritted teeth.

"My dad gave me a concussion once when Gavroche ran away. I lied to give him more time, and got beat up for it. It wasn't worth it, because 'Roche is on his own now, hungry all the time with nowhere to sleep. I didn't really help him, his situation just changed. What if that's how your revolution turns out? Will you be okay with that?" she'd been thinking about their parallels for a while, but only now did she have a context to explain herself.

"I have to at least try. I'm sure your brother is happier wherever he is."

"Maybe. He's so brave. I don't think I could do it. I don't think I could do what you're doing either."

"Anyone can do what I'm doing. That's the point," he stumbled a little, but Eponine held him upright.

"Not if you're selfish like me."

"You just have to find something that makes you care."

"Caring hurts too much."

"You're telling me." he stumbled again.

"Okay, big boy. We gotta walk. It's just another half block." She moved so that he was closer to the buildings and could support himself with their walls.

"Everything's spinning."

"I know." She put an arm around his waist and helped him to walk the last few steps to his complex. When they got inside, he moved to take the stairs, but she stopped him. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"It's only one flight."

"The elevator stops on that floor too. I'm not carrying you up the stairs."

"You don't have to."

Eponine was glad for Grantaire's foresight. If it were up to Enjolras, he would definitely be dead at the bottom of the stairwell. "Come on," It didn't take much to pull him into the waiting elevator with how dizzy he was. Once in, he sank against the wall and rubbed his aching head, agitating it into bleeding again. "You're a mess."

"I know."

"When did you last sleep?"

He shrugged.

"Eat?"

He didn't respond. She made a note to tell Grantaire. When the elevator stopped, she pulled him back up.

"Do you have your key?"

He fumbled around in his dirty red coat before she stopped him and found it for him.

"Make sure you wash your face."

"Yes, mom," he mumbled, taking his key from her. He closed his door with a slight wave. If he weren't so pathetic and irrational she would have taken him for an ingrate.

* * *

**2nd Semester**

Living with Montparnasse was a little like being in a coma. Whenever he was around, Eponine went numb and left her body. He would take what he wanted from her, but she was never there when he did. Not really. It was easier to handle when she knew he was coming, but sometimes he would surprise her while she was taking a shower or half asleep. Then, it was all she could do to pretend it wasn't happening and she were somewhere else.

Originally, during these attacks, she would try to think of Marius. His laugh, the way his hair flopped in his eyes when it was windy, how he drummed his fingers when he was nervous. But Marius wasn't a shelter anymore. It was several weeks ago that he'd forsaken her.

Initially, he'd acted happy that she found a boyfriend. He wanted to go on double dates to the movies and Olive Garden. Eponine wasn't able to explain why she couldn't, so every time he asked, she said that they already had other plans.

Then, he saw the bruises. Montparnasse would get angry about work or get fed up with her and he responded the only way he knew how. Violence. Marius didn't question it at first, he was used to seeing her looking ragged because of her parents, but when the trend continued he grew leery and made Cosette ask her about it. Eponine told her in confidence of the friendship they had started in their last year of high school, but Cosette didn't know what she was hearing were secrets, so she blabbed to Marius. He freaked out and lectured her about being safe and courting only people she truly loved. Like the way he loved Cosette. When she continued to live with Montparnasse, he told her he was 'withholding his friendship until further notice'. Now when she saw him, he would ignore her or leave the room altogether.

On this particular morning, Montparnasse had her against the wall, begging her to say his name, but all Eponine could think of was going over to Enjolras' later to make protest signs. His nails dug into her back, bringing her to reality.

"Say it," he whispered hotly into her ear. She merely whimpered, but he seemed satisfied and let her alone to drift back into her head.

Suddenly, she felt his hand creep around her neck. "Are you bored?"

Her eyes bulged. He'd never gone so far as to choke her before. Usually he only yelled and used his fists. "I'm sorry!"

"_Are you bored?_" Eponine shook her head and tried to shove him off. He let go of her neck and tapped her cheek. "I want eye contact next time, slut."

Eponine slumped to the ground, shaking with fear and anger. She spat the taste of him out on the carpet while he ran around the apartment gathering his work uniform.

"I don't know what time I'm going to be home tonight. Don't go anywhere." She nodded dumbly, picking herself up off the floor after he'd left.

Montparnasse had made her friendless and weak. She couldn't go to any of the Amis' meetings, she'd lost her job, and if he so much as sensed she were talking to another man she would feel it into the next week. Eponine wasn't sure she'd be able to leave him when the school year ended.

**Originalmaz: the pop culture references are pointed out :( I couldn't think of another place to add any, so I just left it at that. Boo. I'm bad at this game.**


	8. Chapter 8

**1st Semester**

Eponine had her hair in a loose bun on top of her head that bounced when she walked, and even more when she danced. Before tonight, she considered herself to be a pretty good at knowing how to move her body in a way that looked appealing Sure, she never made any of the musicals during her years in the high school, but jazz squares were never really her thing. The Bend and Snap was more her style. Marius didn't seem to notice though. She tried to get him to dance with her, after all, Cosette wouldn't be caught dead in a nightclub and wouldn't have to know, but he insisted on having Joly and Bossuet join them whenever she got more than two feet away from him. After being elbowed by Joly twice and stepped on by Bossuet more times than she could count, she decided it was time for a drink; nothing stronger than moonshine would suffice.

Enjolras was resting against the drinking wall with his ever-present scowl. To her surprise, he was even holding a drink. She took the empty spot next to him, vodka in hand.

"You find our guy yet?" The whole clubbing idea hadn't been Courfeyrac's, surprisingly enough, but Enjolras'. Apparently one of the main DJs was a rabid revolutionist with a lot of power. Convincing him to help the Amis would be the ultimate win.

"No. I think his shift must start at midnight." They were both screaming to be heard over the pounding music.

She tapped his glass. "What is this?"

"R gave it to me. He said it would make me look less conspicuous since I refuse to dance like an animal in heat." He took a big gulp from his glass.

"No, but is it alcoholic? I didn't think you drank."

"He said it shouldn't do anything to me. I weigh enough."

Eponine took it from him and dipped her finger in. "Ew. It tastes like rum." She looked a little closer at the glass. It was hard to tell in the club lighting, but it looked like there were little white specks along the sides and rim. "Did you leave this sit anywhere?" He shook his head. "Do you know if R did?"

"Why?"

"It looks like someone put some sort of crap in here."

"Crap?"

"Drugs."

Enjolras shrugged. "I doubt it. It's probably just sugar."

"Okay." She gave him his drink back. They sat quietly, sipping. Sometimes she thought he might be looking at her, but he was only searching for a sign that the new DJ had arrived. "What do you think of Marius?" She asked after a while to break the silence. Not that she cared about his opinion, but an outsider's perspective would be nice. Before tonight, she really thought that they'd been going somewhere with him. Now she wasn't so sure.

"Not much." It was what she expected. Marius had some fascist views that clashed with Enjolras' socialist ones. Leave it to a revolutionist to judge someone based on their political views.

"No, but I mean, do you think he... I don't know. Do you think he's in love with Cosette?"

"You should stop wasting your time on him. He'snotgoodcompany."

Eponine let her head rest on his shoulder. He smelled like cheap bar soap and rum. "He'll see me eventually."

"Yah were right on top of him not twenty minutes ago n he made Joly join in."

She blushed. "You saw that?"

"I kin see everythun. He's either stupid or not intresed. Probly a good mix uh both," he paused, "Can we talk bout sumffin else? I hate tha kid."

Eponine took her head off his shoulder and looked at his glass. It was empty. "Are you drunk already?!"

"Wha! No! I'm sober as rain." His slurred speech seemed out-of-place after only a single drink. Then again, he'd never drank before.

"Come on." She pulled him off the wall.

"No, the Deej! This is tha best spot!"

"I think I saw the DJ go into the bathroom, come on." He trailed behind her like a lost puppy, a hand on her shoulder so that they wouldn't be separated. She lead him through the middle of the room, grabbing Combeferre from a breakdance circle where Grantaire was kicking major ass. "Can you get a bunch of water and meet us in the men's bathroom?" she screamed over the throbbing bass. 'Ferre nodded and left without question.

In the bathroom, she made Enjolras sit in the corner of the handicap stall. "Do you think you can puke?"

"No. Where's tha Deeguy? I thaugh you said he was in hur." Enjolras tried to stand, but his muscles were jelly. Combeferre came in with six glasses of water before his could enter a full blown panic attack about not having control. "Fairy, you gotta help me!"

Combeferre set the glasses down and tried to help Enjolras up, but he was dead weight. "What's wrong with him?"

Eponine shrugged. "I think someone spiked his drink."

"He drank?"

"I know. It surprised me too."

Enjolras ran his hand over his face and started to chant the word 'sober'.

Eponine put a glass under his lips. "Drink." He did.

"Do we need to get Joly?"

"If you want."

Enjolras downed another glass. "What's this for?"

"It'll dilute the drugs and rum. Hopefully you won't have too bad of a hangover tomorrow." Eponine knew from experience

"I'm not drunk."

Combeferre looked at his watch. "If I'm not going to fetch Joly, I better go find the DJ. It's almost midnight."

Enjolras tried to stand again. "I'm comin! hangon!"

"Better not. He won't take us seriously if he sees our leader completely smashed."

"I'm sober!"

Eponine gently pushed him back to the floor. "Maybe in a bit."

"It was my idea," he mumbled. So that's what he was all about. Getting credit for his idea. Combeferre left, promising to come back after he found the DJ.

Eponine locked the stall door after him and made Enjolras drink another glass of water.

"Do I look butter yet?"

"You could try puking. I bet your body hasn't absorbed all the drugs yet. They've only been in you for a couple of minutes."

He crawled over to the toilet and took a couple of deep breaths. "Are yah shore?"

Eponine took a sip from one of his waters. "Not really."

"This is turrible. Peopul drink for fun?"

"Most people do it because they're sad. Some of them don't even know they're sad."

Enjolras tried sticking his finger down his throat, but he only gagged. "Em I doin it right?"

She shrugged. "Maybe you just have a really good gag reflex."

"I need to getout thare!" he groaned and laid his head on the toilet seat.

"I wish I had a phone so that I could record this."

"You're a meanie. A meanie panini."

"Hey, I tried to warn you."

"I thaugh yah jus wanted my drink." His blinked sleepily.

"Drink more water."

"R is dead meat."

"He didn't do it. It was probably some stranger who thought you were cute."

"Noooo. He knew what thismeant tah me. He's tha enemy."

Eponine squatted on the filthy bathroom floor and whistled a sailing tune her dad used to sing when he was black-out drunk. There wasn't a point in arguing with someone as out of it as Enjolras. She listened to the din of the other bathroom users, and wished she were back on the dance floor with Marius, rather than tending to a drugged Enjolras.

"Why do yah likethat bafoon?" he said, as if reading her mind.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about him anymore."

" I don't! If I can make yah not like em anymoare, yah won't bahther me abou em."

"I didn't realize I was such a pest, your highness. If you'd be so kind as to never bother me about revolution, that'd be very welcome as well."

"Wha?"

"Nothing." She pulled he bun out; it was giving her a headache.

"Yah should court Uncle Sam instead. He's a catch." Eponine smiled a little. "Imma marry Lady Liburty. Then we kin be in-laws!" She dug around in her purse for a sharpie and rolled his sleeve up. "Wha yah doin?"

"I'm going to write what you just said down. Then when you wake up tomorrow and you ask me what happened, you can just read your arm." She wrote down the rude Marius comment and his patriotic joke. "When I tell you that you're an asshole and that you try to make jokes when you're drunk, sober-you isn't going to believe me."

"Ah am sober!"

"I _am_ sober!"

"Sober people can control their mouths." Enjolras grunted and retreated to his corner with a glass of water. Eponine filled the empty ones up with water from the bathroom tap and placed them around him. "I'm going to write Combeferre's number on your arm. If you get lost, call it, or make someone else call it for you."

"Where yah goin, Pony?"

"I've got some business to attend to,"

"No, wait! Kin I jus," he motioned for her to come closer. "I wanna tell yah a secret," he motioned for her to come closer yet. She leaned into him so that he could talk in her ear. "I think we're losing," he whispered. She drew back and looked at him.

"It'll work out.", she couldn't help but feel bad for him. This revolution was his life.

"You're just sayin that cause you wanna talk to Marius."

"I'll keep your secret."

"Liar."

She hooked he pinky in his ruffled his hair, much to his chagrin, before she leaving to find Marius. She'd curled her eyelashes and shaved her legs for tonight. No matter how bad she felt for him, Enjolras wasn't about to ruin the her chance with him. To her delight, and then disappointment, Marius found her first, Combeferre in tow.

"The DJ isn't coming," he shouted. "He was arrested for treason last night."

Combeferre appeared to be seething. "It was a waste. We were almost arrested too." he looked around. "What happened to Enjolras?"

"Nothing. He's locked in the bathroom."

"Marius and I will get him. Can you bring the car around?" He handed her his keys.

"No, wait!" she stopped them, remember the things she had written on Enjolras' arm about Marius and her liking him. "Marius, you bring the car around, I've been drinking."

He took the keys from her. "You shouldn't do that. You're underage."

"I'll be okay." Marius patted her shoulder sadly and left. She never seemed to be able to do right by him.

* * *

Enjolras was quiet the entire way back to his apartment. He didn't even respond when Combeferre broke the news about the DJ to him. He probably thought that if he stayed silent, he could convince everyone that he was sober.

Eponine poked him in the side to get his attention. "I take care of you a lot. I think you'll owe me after this one." She tried to write IOU on him, but he kept his sleeves firmly pulled down.

"I'll pay yah back latur," he said in what he probably thought was a quiet voice. Grantaire was singing along badly to the radio in the front seat though, so in all probability Eponine_ was_ the only one who heard.

"I don't want your money."

"I know. You'll need me soon enuf. I live in-" He took the sharpie from her and wrote his apartment number on her bicep.

"I was aware, but thanks. I guess."

"No problem. I say yah cud crash whenevar, but R took thah privilege already." Grantaire leaned his seat back so that he was practically laying in Enjolras' lap. "Geroff!"

"I love you."

"I know. I hate yah."

"I know."

"You ruined tonight."

"I'm sorry." The way Grantaire said it was so sincere, Eponine couldn't help but wonder if maybe R actually had had a hand in the events that had transpired If so, she hated him too. He took her from Marius.

* * *

**2nd Semester**

"You're early," Enjolras opened his door wide to Eponine could walk past him.

"Am I?" she set her bag on the floor and plopped into a chair at his kitchen table. She knew well enough she was early. Two hours early. She couldn't sit around Montparnasse's apartment a moment longer though, and didn't know of anywhere better to go

"You're never early."

"Would you rather I was late?"

Enjolras rubbed his neck, "No, it's fine, it's just- nothing," he sat at the table as well. "So, you haven't come to any of the meetings for the last two months."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Are you behind in your school work again?"

"No, it's my boyfriend. He's pretty needy and doesn't like it when I go out. I'll see if I can make the next one."

"I thought Marius was still with that blonde girl."

"I'm not dating Marius."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I'll go get the paint."

"Right."

He came back a moment later with tackboard and black paint. "This shouldn't take too long. I wasn't sure what to write on them, or if we should do several sayings or just one."

"Keep it simple. Then there's a mantra. Since it's so impromptu, people won't have their own signs or anything to shout."

"Yes, but will they know what we're protesting if we only have one phrase? What about the arguing points?"

Eponine opened a jar of paint. "They don't need to have arguing points, they need to get mad."

"But they won't be able to get angry if they don't have a reason to be."

"They've heard the arguments before on the t.v., they'll know what we're protesting about. Whether they join us or not is up to them."

"So what should we write then?"

Eponine dipped her brush and started writing. "Shame on you. It's easy to chant."

"You don't think that's a bit vague?"

"No. The flyers we hand out should explain enough," her sleeve started to slip off her shoulder, so she pulled it back up, flicking paint onto her blouse.

"You've got black-" Enjolras motioned to his sleeve, showing her where.

She cursed and dropped the brush in the middle of the tackboard. "He's going to kill me,"

Enjolras picked the the brush up with a sigh and tried to salvage her sign while she ran to the bathroom.

"Who's going to kill you?" he called out over the sound of the running tap. Eponine kept water on hard and cold as punishment for being so careless.

"My boyfriend. He bought me this shirt." It was a half-truth. Montparnasse really had given her money to replace the ratty clothes she used to own, but he would mostly kill her because she had left the apartment.

"Just don't tell him then."

"It's not that simple," she growled in frustration.

He cracked open the door, "Do you want help? I've got laundry soap in the kitchen."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. I need to get this out!" she was getting desperate now. The paint was now a large grey smudge, twice the size as it had originally been.

"Okay," he paused before turning. "What happened to your shoulder?"

Eponine covered it with her hand instinctively. "Nothing, I scraped it."

He left to get the soap without asking anymore questions. Like Marius, he was gullible, always fooled by her thin lies.

Eponine finished the signs while Enjolras bleached the stain out of her shirt. He loaned her an unfortunate furry sweater so that he could put the blouse in the dryer. She flipped the turtleneck scruff over her face so that only her forehead was visible, and put her head on the table.

"This is comfy," she said, muffled by all the fabric. "You should wear it more often."

He chuckled, "You look like Fozzie Bear."

"Wocka wocka."

"My mother sent it to me as a Christmas present last year. I put it on when she visits."

Eponine pulled the neck back down and sat up straight, fighting a laugh. "You don't."

"I did. Once. She hasn't spoken to me in months. Says I'm headed down the wrong path and doesn't want to be a part of it." He sat down across from her once more, and handed her a stack of cardstock. "I didn't want to waste money at the printers when you and Courf can just help me pen the pamphlets." Enjolras slid an example over to her. "Copy it letter for letter. We wouldn't want you to misspell anything or leave out a word, now would we, babe?"

Eponine smirked, she was surprised he remember the night of chalk and felt well enough about it to joke.

"You know, I never really thought about you having a family," she said, starting on the first pamphlet. "I can't imagine you being a baby."

"Well, I didn't burst from my father's head like Athena, clothed in red and full of morals."

"What was it like? Growing up as you, I mean."

Enjolras sighed. "I don't know? Probably the same as everyone else. I got my mouth washed out with soap a lot more though."

"Did you have siblings?"

"A sister. Julia. She's a nurse."

Eponine tried to imagine Enjolras playing games of make-believe and squabbling with a sister. All she could see was Azelma flipping her off. "And your parents?"

"They were just parents. I love them, we fought sometimes, mostly they tolerated, my various evolutions. What's with the twenty questions?"

She slid her first to pamphlets over to him for quality control. "Just curious. It's weird how you can know someone, and then suddenly you find out that they had a succession of twelve cats growing up, all named Fluffy."

"I'm allergic to cats."

"See! That's what I'm talking about! Before, you were Enjolras, Revolutionist. Now you're Enjolras, Sneezes at Cats."

"I guess. What about you then?"

"You already know everything about me, Marius told you back in high school, remember?" she waved him off. Her personal life was private. If she let him, he would be sure to ask more probing questions than she.

"Back then you were... sketchy. Marius didn't always shed such a nice light on you, you know. Now, you're nearly reliable. You're passably intelligent. The Amis are lucky to have you."

Eponine put her pen down. "Are you saying I'm cool?"

"Relatively so."

"No, I want a definite answer. None of this beating around the bush. I'm cool, or no?"

"You're cool."

She fistpumped. "Best compliment from a dork, ever!"

"I just said you were cool, now I'm a dork?" Enjolras pouted.

"I'm sorry, do you prefer the term 'nerd'?"

He was about to retaliate when there was a knock on the door. Eponine hid under the table when he left, lest it be Montparnasse looking for her. Enjolras came back with two other pairs of shoes. Tasselled penny-loafers and a worn set of Adidas. Combeferre and Courfeyrac respectively.

"What are you doing under there?"

"Dropped my pen," she hit her head coming back up and pretended to have a pen in her hand.

Courfeyrac started laughing. "Did you skin a teddy bear for that?"

"Naw, I shaved your dad's back and knitted it."

"Sick, man," he did the secret Amis handshake with her. "Haven't seen you in a while, what've you been up to?"

"This and that. You?"

"Staying out of trouble. Can't say the same for this lot though," he gestured to Enjolras and Combeferre. "Bunch of radicals! They wanna start a revolution! It's all I can do to rein them in!"

Eponine laughed and Combeferre rolled his eyes. "How far have you two gotten with the pamphlets?" Enjolras showed him the few they had done. "Right. We'll be lucky to be done by midnight. I told you we should have just gone to the printers, Enjolras."

"I know, I know. I just thought-"

"Sure. Next time though."

Enjolras nodded. Eponine was creeped out by how good of friends they were. Anyone else contradicting Enjolras would have been an instant argument. Combeferre was like his conjoined twin. A stockier, blinder duplicate. They all pulled up chairs and got to work, speaking only to ask questions about the protest.

Eponine checked the clock periodically. Montparnasse could be in the apartment now, or at four in the morning. She was counting on him to take another shift like he usually did. The boys noticed her paranoia.

"Do you have somewhere to be?" Combeferre asked gently.

"Not really." It was only late afternoon, she told herself. He wouldn't be home until much, much later.

Around ten pm, there was another knock on the door. Eponine didn't bother to hide this time. With three revolutionaries by her side, she felt she could take whoever was on the other side. Enjolras unlocked it after checking the peephole.

"I've got Batman: The Dark Knight, or Eagle Eye," Grantaire was leaning casually in the doorway with two movies. "Personally, I think we should watch-" he looked up. "Hey! you threw a party without me?"

Eponine could see a muscle in Enjolras' jaw twitch. "I asked you to help with the protest tomorrow. You said you had prior engagements."

Grantaire pushed passed him. "Plans changed. Turns out, I'm free!" He went straight to the laptop connected to the television and started preparing it for a movie.

Enjolras looked at the ceiling, clenching and unclenching his fists, while Courfeyrac frantically scanned the room, searching for a way to diffuse the tension. He pulled Eponine with him to the couch.

"We can watch a movie, and finish the pamphlets while we do. There's only a couple left anyway, right?"

Combeferre saw what he was trying to do. "I can make us some pancakes; we haven't eaten yet. You hungry, R?" Grantaire shook his head, still trying to find the HDMI port.

Enjolras sat down tensely next to Eponine, his perfect posture out of place on the sagging couch. "Eagle eye." Everyone looked at him.

"What?" Grantaire had the laptop connected now.

"You made me watch batman last month. We should watch Eagle Eye."

Everyone seemed to exhale, except for Eponine, who knew Enjolras' limits in tolerating his drunken friend.

As soon as the movie started, Grantaire got up to turn off the lights. Courfeyrac stole his spot on the floor, which he seemed to expect, because he sat next to Eponine without a word of argument. Combeferre gave up on the pancake idea when he saw Enjolras was lacking in the butter and syrup. Apparently he liked his breakfasts dry and chewy.

Eponine was a little irritable from hunger, which made her hot and uncomfortable. She rolled up her sleeves and leaned into her couchmates. They seemed to be taking up more than their fair share of space. Grantaire got the memo and scooted over, but Enjolras was completely oblivious; sucked into the fast-paced movie. She huffed and pushed him a harder yet when her stomach grumbled. He didn't budge an inch. She was about to ask him how much room he really needed, when she saw what he was all about. Enjolras was staring intently at her arms and the crisscrossing cuts that meandered down her wrists like a game of tic-tac-toe gone wrong. She hurriedly pulled down her sleeves, but it was too late, the damage was done. He looked at her. All of Eponine's senses became acutely aware. The heat rolling off of his body, the grim slash of his mouth across his dimly lit face. She felt his warm fingers encircling her wrist, tugging at her to get off the couch and stand with him. She couldn't make her legs do it. Everyone was staring at Enjolras for the second time that night.

"What's going on?" Combeferre stood as well. Eponine could see where the situation was going. If she didn't give Enjolras what he wanted, there'd be a scene. She got up.

"This is a really important part you guys! You can't just leave!" Grantaire whined. He eyed Eponine's hand in Enjolras', but didn't comment on it.

"It'll just be a second." He lead her into the second bedroom which served as an office of sorts, and closed the door. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

Eponine wished for room to pace and time to think, her heart high in her throat. "It's nothing. They're old."

Enjolras leaned against the door, blocking her only exit. "And you're shoulder? That didn't look too old."

"What's it to you!"

"Is it because of Marius?" He was patronizing her. She knew how he felt about Pontmercy.

Eponine pulled the sweater off and threw it to the ground. Maybe she could shock him into letting her alone. His brow merely furrowed She shivered in her camisole, gooseflesh appearing on her arms and back. "Marius, really Enjolras? You think I'm that pathetic?"

"I don't know, are you?"

"God, you're such an ass, sometimes!" she hissed. He reached out to touch the fresh cuts on her shoulder, but she drew back before he could. "I don't need this." She tried to push him out of the way so that she could open the door, but he wouldn't budge. "Why are you doing this?!" She slapped his arm. "In front of everyone too!" Maybe she could make him pity her enough to let her go. On top of not wanting his opinion on her 'problems', the night was growing old. She needed to get back, and soon.

"You're the one that made it into a scene."

"They're probably outside the door listening right now," she threw her weight into him. He pushed her back.

"You need to calm down."

"I _am_ calm."

"You're on tilt."

"I am not."

"That's what someone on tilt would say. Just tell me why you do it and I'll let you be."

"I don't owe you anything." They were stage whispering now.

"No? What about college? And the Amis? You like them, don't you?"

"None of that matters anymore."

He crossed his arms. "Just help me understand."

"You can't."

"No, because I'm only a friend who cares."

"You're not my friend, and you don't care." she felt tears pricking her eyes, but blinked them away. She couldn't let him see her cry, not when he already thought her a depressed cutting freak. "You call me when you need help, you hate having conversations with me-"

"I hate talking about Marius, there's a difference," he didn't deny only keeping her around just for protest chores.

"And then you go and pull shit like this!" She waved her arms, gesturing to the room he'd trapped her in.

He tried to grab her again. "You need to stop."

"What? Hurting myself?"

"I just wanted to talk, you're making this into an ordeal." She kicked off her shoes and started to pull at her pants. "What are you doing?!"

"You want to help me?" she slid them down her ankles and then kicked them off as well. The look of shock she had been hoping for earlier from him appeared. Her thighs were still puffy from before she came over to his apartment that morning. "You can't, okay? So just leave me alone. Don't bother calling me again either, and I'm not coming to your stupid protest tomorrow." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Obviously Eponine had reacted differently than he'd hoped. When he opened his eyes again, the look of shock had passed into something she couldn't place. "What. Are you angry I turned out to be Eponine: The Sketch after all? Sorry, pal. We're not all perfect like you."

He shook his head and moved from the door. "I'm just disappointed."

"That's me," she said collecting her shoes and trousers. "Just a big disappointment to everyone." She opened the door into Courfeyrac and Grantaire. "Move, bitches." They did. She dressed quickly in the kitchen, nearly forgetting the shirt Enjolras had put in the dryer for her.

Enjolras was standing in the hallway with Courf and R behind him when she returned. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too," she flipped him off and let the door close loudly behind her. Twice on the way up the stairs back to her apartment, she found herself crumpled on the ground hyperventilating. Too much. It was too much.


	9. Chapter 9

**Before: Beginning of 2nd Semester**

Montparnasse was losing his seventh round of poker in a row. Eponine stood behind him, murmuring sweet nothings in his ear so that when he took her back home he wouldn't take out his anger on her. If she could just keep him calm enough, maybe he would only leave broke and disappointed rather than furious. She rubbed his shoulder while he laid the last of his money on the table. The rage coiling just under the surface of his calm exterior scared her. The other men chuckled. They knew he was going to lose this hand the same as he had lost all the others. A balding Rotarian lay down a full house causing everyone to groan. Montparnasse put his cigarette out angrily.

"Looks like it's time for you to go home, 'Parnasse," some fat drunk man said.

"One more round."

"You're out of cash, big boy. We don't accept IOUs here."

Montparnasse spun around. "Baby, how much cash you got on you?"

Eponine was wearing a scant cocktail dress without pockets. "None? Come on, it's fine. I'll make you forget all about this when we get home." She didn't mean it. It was very likely Montparnasse would pass out before he would ever be able to touch her.

He turned back to his friends. "I bet the girl."

She couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but if he was, the other men didn't seem to notice or care. They all accepted his offer. The fat man dealt everyone their cards. For the eighth time, Montparnasse had an awful hand. She needed to get out before he lost again, but without him knowing the better. Without anyone knowing the better. If they knew she had left it would be a bloody mess. If Montparnasse lost his bet it would be a bloody mess. There was not a doubt in her mind that he had a gun on him. She wasn't sure if he would pull it if he lost so that he could get them both out or if he would look for her with it if she left. There were so many risks to account for, and time was running out.

"I have to pee," she whispered in his ear, loud enough for everyone to hear so that he wouldn't be able to deny her. He grabbed her wrist to keep her from leaving anyway.

The balding man saw it and huffed. "Dammit kid, let her go to the bathroom. We can pause the game until she comes back."

"She's going to run." Eponine's stomach dropped. She shouldn't have tried anything. "I'm going with her to make sure she doesn't."

The other men shouted in protest when he stood to leave. No one put it past Montparnasse to cheat. Eventually a consensus was met that Eponine could leave, but for only two minutes, as the men didn't trust one another to leave the room and not cheat either. She thanked them before bowing out the door gracefully. The timer was set. Two minutes.

She sprinted down the hall, sliding dangerously around the corners. The exit sign arrows were in no short supply, and it was anyone's guess what part of town she was in. There were a few time she thought she her footsteps behind her, but it was only the echo of her own feet. Left. Right. Left. Left. Right. There. She crashed through the doors of a rundown hotel lobby and spilled into the night. Now what? Her two minutes were definitely up. Up the street, down the corner, she passed a taco bell and then doubled back. The doors were locked, but some kid was mopping up inside. She pounded on the glass until he let her in.

"Can I use your phone?"

"We're closed ma'am." The kid let her push past and continued to mop, seemingly unbothered by a terrified woman running around in the ghetto at midnight. Eponine knew she could count on her fellow employees to be apathetic about everything, even her suspicious nature and predicament. The phone was in the same spot as it was in her restaurant. She tried Marius' number first.

"Hullo?" There was a lot of background noise.

"Hey! It's Eponine! I was wondering if you could do me a favor?"

"I'm kind of in the middle of something right now," Something crashed. "Woah! Hey! Yeah, Eponine, I'm going to have to call you back, okay?"

"Wait-" He hung up. She kick the counter and screamed. The boy mopping didn't even spare her a glance. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and tried to think of someone else to call. Her two minutes were stretching into ten. Enjolras. 555-0704, like the Fourth of July. She punched it in quickly and squatted on the ground, lest one of the poker players run past and see her. After six rings he picked up.

"Who is this?" he sounded like he just woke up.

"Eponine. I need your help."

"Why? What happened? Where are you?" He was definitely awake now.

"Hey kid, what's this address?" The boy mopping shouted it out. "Did you get that? Can you pick me up?"

"Yeah," he was quiet a second while he put it into his phone. "It says you're twenty minutes away. Are you okay?"

"Not really. Do you have a gun?"

"What's going on?"

"I can explain later." She gripped the phone tightly to the side of her face as if she might disappear into to his and be delivered to where he was.

"Stay where you are, okay?"

There was some shouting outside, but she couldn't tell if it was gang-related or poker-related. "Yeah, I'll try. Please hurry." He hung up, but she continued to clutch the phone to her ear. The screaming ensued, one voice distinctly Montparnasse's. She held the phone to her chest and lay on the floor. The boy was still mopping, not even slightly concerned about the dangerous men just outside. Even as their voices faded away, she continued to lay on the ground quietly. They would surely come back this direction when they didn't find her on the other streets.

Only ten minutes had passed when a pair of headlights pulled up and around the drive through. The boy put his headset on and greeted the customer who asked if he'd seen a girl. The boy said he had and asked the costumer if he wanted any churros with that. Eponine jumped up from the floor and slammed the phone down on the receiver before running out to Enjolras' car. She got in the passenger's side and slouched so that she wouldn't be seen by any of the passerbys. He drove off without giving the boy answer.

"You said it would take twenty minutes."

"You asked me if I had a gun, I figured I should hurry if the situation called for people to get shot."

"Thank you."

"What were you doing hiding out in a taco bell?" He seemed a little upset at the fact the there was no apparent immediate danger.

"My Friend got a little drunk," she struggled to find a way to explain her situation to him without explaining the entire situation. "He lost a bet, and his friends got mad."

"His friends with guns."

How could she make him understand? There was no way she could tell him she was living with Montparnasse. "He bet me." That was it. That was as much as she could tell without giving away the entire story. If she told him the whole story, he would have a lot of questions she didn't want to or have answers to.

"And he lost you. To his friends with guns."

"I ran." Enjolras wouldn't look at her. He was driving at least ten over the speed limit and was only going faster. "I don't mean to drag you into this. I called Marius, but he hung up on me."

"I'm glad you called, you're supposed to call, it's just- how do you find these fucking people!?"

"What?" She was surprised to hear him swear.

"Who would place and who would accept a bet where you were at stake? That's sick!" He slammed on the brakes to avoid running a red light. "People don't do that."

"Maybe not in the perfect world where you come from."

"No, I get that the world is awful. Have you been to any of our protests? I just don't understand why you choose to hang out with the people who instigate the awfulness."

"I don't really have a choice, do I? You're given your lot in life, and that's that. These are my people. Things just turned sour at the end."

"You're people?! You're joking, right? Eponine, you could be in your dorm right now, not trying to out run a bunch of rapists."

"Are you trying to tell me I did this to myself?"

He looked at her for the first time. "Yes. No. No. I don't know."

She grunted. She didn't need his sympathy or his understanding; she needed to get away from this part of the city. He was serving his purpose just fine.

"Eponine, I don't know, okay? Obviously I don't know the full story. You're 'friend'," she could practically taste the air quotes around the word, "What's going to happen when you see him next?"

Another risk she hadn't thought about. Where was she going anyway? Home? Montparnasse would find her there, she lived with him. "I don't know. He'll be angry I suspect." She closed her eyes and tried not to shake. She couldn't let Enjolras see how scared she was.

"He's not going to... shoot you, right?"

"No, he'll just be mad." There was no need to make Enjolras worry about what Montparnasse was going to do. It's not like he could do anything to prevent the inevitable rage that was to come.

"They chased you with guns tonight."

"He'll have calmed down by the time I see him next. He'll be sober at the very least. Probably won't even remember exactly what happened."

Enjolras was finally slowing down now that they were back in the downtown area in which they both lived. "Where am I taking you?"

"Your building," she decided. He made a face that said you-don't-have-to-go-home-but-you-can't-stay-on-my -couch. "I just moved in with my boyfriend," she added.

"Why didn't you call him? Not that you shouldn't call me, it just seems like he would be an obvious choice to ask for help from."

"He's busy tonight," she lied quickly. You can't exactly ask for help from the guy you're running from.

"Does he know about these guys?"

"I think so." They were only a block away from the apartment complex. She took his free hand in hers, which seemed to startle him. "Tomorrow-I don't know when-I'm going to come and find you, okay? And if you don't see me or hear from me, I need you to call the police."

"Eponine-"

She squeezed his hand tightly before releasing it. "Please. Don't ask me any questions. Just promise, okay? I don't know what's going to happen."

"If you think you're in that much danger, you can always push Grantaire off my couch. Don't put yourself in a situation where I have to call the police to see if you're dead!"

"I have to go home. I'll probably be fine. It's just my adrenaline pumping from before."

"Do these people know where you live?"

"Don't ask me questions. Please. I mean it."

"This isn't a game!"

"_You think I don't know that?_" She huffed and scraped her hair back. There was know way he could understand. She was stuck with no way out, no matter how much he wanted to help her. Alone she'd gone in, and alone she would have to go out.

"I'm sorry. You're the one who was hunted down like a fox tonight, not me. I don't want to watch this happen to you. I'm just concerned."

"Then don't watch."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I can take care of myself. It'll be fine." She was trying to convince herself of it as much as she was him.

"If you can take care of yourself, then why am I driving you around in the middle of the night?"

"I didn't have money for a cab. My friend spent all of it, which is why he bet me."

He parked, but didn't turn off the car or unlock the doors. "I don't know what to do."

"I don't know what I should do either."

"Are you sure you're going to be okay tonight?" He rubbed a temple, as if it gave him a headache to even consider letting her go off on her own.

"No. But if I go with you, then I definitely won't be okay tomorrow."

"Do you want me to stay with you for a while just in case they come by?"

She could see the outline of his gun in the waistband of his pants and considered it a moment. "No, it'll be fine." She wished she had a gun of her own.

"Are you absolutely positive?"

"One hundred percent."

He shut off the car. "Call me as soon as you can tomorrow."

"Sure." With the new bruises she was going to have after Montparnasse found her, she would _have_ to contact him by phone only.

They both got out of the car. "Eponine, you know you're not _actually_ stuck with the lot you're given, right? This is America after all."

"It's a nice thought."

"I mean it. You can do whatever you want to. That's the beauty of freedom."

"Not everyone thinks that way. Isn't that what you're fighting for? Some people don't have those ideals and think they control the rest of us. Until they stop believing that, they do control us."

"Which is why we have to control them back at the end of a barrel."

She linked her arm in his. "So are we hypocrites then, or heroes?"

"History is what the losers settle for, and I don't plan on settling."

"Then neither do I."


	10. Chapter 10

Eponine had that fabric of Grantaire's coat balled up in her fists to try and keep them from trembling. There wasn't a moment's hesitation from him when he found her convulsing in the the stairwell between the second and first floors, to gather her tiny frame up in his arms and haul her back to his apartment. He nearly dropped her fumbling around for his key, but she was gripping him so tightly she wouldn't have fallen anyway. He swore under his breath when he couldn't find it and pounded on Enjolras' door. There was no answer. Eponine felt ready to pass out.

Grantaire eventually produced a key from somewhere-Eponine was too delirious to notice-and let them into Enjolras' apartment. He tried to set her on the couch, but she wouldn't let go of him. Eventually he gave up and relinquished his coat to her.

"Did you take something? Pills, drugs, alcohol?"

She managed to shake her head slightly.

"Are you sure? I need you to be honest right now, it's fine if you did, just tell me."

Even through her delirium, Eponine could tell Grantaire was only playing at being calm. He was kneeling before her, fingers tapping nervously on his knee. His voice cracked a little whenever he reached the peak of a sentence. She wished he would stop, it was making her feel even worse.

"I need to know what's going on so I can help you!"

She shook her head again.

He took a armful of afghans and piled them on top of her. "If you're not better in 10 minutes, I'm taking you to the hospital."

She started to rock back and forth. Grantaire, the hospital, none of it could help her. Being alone would help. She needed to get out, but she couldn't find the strength or will to make her legs work.

Grantaire left for a moment and came back with a block of cheese. "He doesn't have any booze. Eat," he shoved it at her face, but she turned her head away. The thought of eating anything made her want to throw up. "How about-" he reached under the mountain of blankets and found his coat. "mints?" He held a couple of unwrapped lint-covered Olive Garden mints under her chin, as if expecting her to eat them out of his hand.

"Stop," she moaned.

"What do you want? Spaghetti? Tea?"

"Just go." She pulled the blankets up to her chin and shook, a wave of nausea crashing over her. Grantaire mistook her command to leave as a yes to the aforementioned spaghetti and tea. In the kitchen, she could already hear him rummaging around in the pantry for food. It was all she could do to keep her dry heaving quiet so he wouldn't call an ambulance.

"He only has green tea; do you want water?" The front door opened and Eponine pulled the blanket over her head in an attempt to go unnoticed. She was.

"Get out of my apartment, both of you."

Grantaire came out to meet him, sloshing about a plate of half-cooked noodles. "Thank gods, Enjolras. I need your help!"

"You're eating my food? Again? We talked about this!"

"No! No," he put the plate on the ground and held up his hands in surrender, "It's 'Ponine, I think she took something bad."

Eponine held the blankets tighter around herself. Enjolras was the last person who needed to see her like this. She tried to stop the trembling in her body to no avail. Gently, Grantaire tried to pull the afghans away, and when he couldn't Enjolras ripped them off. Eponine covered her neck instinctively and curled her knees into her chest.

"What happened, what did you do?" He made her sit up. Eponine started to hyperventilate, causing her limbs to go numb. "Stop, you'll pass out! Grantaire, get a bag." He took her hand away from her neck and sat back on his heels and hissed. Eponine started to dry heave again. "R?" He called little louder than necessary. "Where did you find her?"

"Bottom of the stairwell on the 1st floor." Grantaire came back without a bag.

"She said she lives with her boyfriend."

"Marius?"

"No, she never said. Eponine, who did this? Was it him?"

She rubbed her tingling hands on her numb thighs. Even if she was able to talk, she wouldn't. She gave Grantaire a meaningful look, hoping he would understand that she needed to leave.

"Do you know who it was?" Enjolras was speaking to Grantaire now.

"I told you all I knew! I didn't even see that until now!"

"How could you not? It looks like it came from rope." Enjolras touched the item of interest, a large red and purple bruise that encircled Eponine's neck. "Get some ice."

"Please," Eponine croaked, her voice hoarse from crying and being strangled. "Let me alone."

"What number do you live at? Is he still there?"

She was hiccuping from hyperventilating which turned into more dry heaving. "Just, stop."

"This is serious, I need to know who did this to you."

"No."

"Eponine-"

"No."

"EPONINE!" She shrunk back and blocked her head with her arms. "Please," he was whispering now in the kind of voice reserved for funerals and doctors offices.

"Me," she only mouthed it, but his face flooded with understanding.

"Don't lie."

"I just want to be done."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before getting up, pulling Grantaire with him. She put her head back and tried to calm her breath. The sound of her own blood pumping in her ears cocooned her until she heard something hit the wall. Probably Enjolras' fist. A muffled Grantaire warned him that he'd have to pay for the damage.

"YOU KNEW!" They were in the hallway now, their short, secret conversation over.

"I didn't think she was serious!"

Enjolras pushed Grantaire towards the door. "Everything's a joke to you, isn't it? Just get out."

"It's not like I _told_ her to do it!"

"You didn't stop her either!"

Grantaire was standing in the doorway now, not quite far enough out for Enjolras to close the door. "Everyone wants to die, I didn't know there was anything to stop."

"You're sick."

"I know." Grantaire didn't wait for the door to be slammed in his face. He pretended to go back to his own apartment, presumably to sit outside the door for the rest of the night as he still didn't have a key to get in. Enjolras didn't watch long enough to notice. He shut the door and sat on the couch with Eponine. He was quiet for a long while, collecting himself, folding and unfolding his hands. The pattern would have been rhythmic and calming, had Eponine not been aware of the impending conversation.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"Montparnasse came home too early and found me. He kicked me out. Said he didn't want police investigating any deaths around him," she knew that it wasn't the answer to the question he asked. Enjolras was interested in the events leading up to her attempted suicide rather than the ones proceeding it.

"Montparnasse? That's your boyfriend?"

She nodded, not bothering to correct him. Explaining her relationship with Montparnasse would be giving away the whole game, which was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Oh, Eponine."

"He's nice." She hated him, but he put up with her and put her up which was more than anyone else would have. He had hurt her mentally and physically, but she had known to expect that from him, and that was what mattered.

"He's dangerous."

"You just punched a hole in the wall." Her head was pounding. She didn't want to fight with Enjolras, or talk about what happened. She just wanted to be alone, or at the very least with people who didn't know who she was. Then they couldn't call her out on her mistakes.

He wrung his hands a while longer before, once again, approaching her on the subject he wanted to know most about. "Can you tell me why?"

Silence.

"Was it because of last night?"

"No."

"Is it because of Marius?"

She bowed her head so that she wouldn't have to look at his accusing eyes any longer. Marius was the tip of the iceberg, but not for the childish reasons he thought.

"Please. Let me help you."

"You can't help me." Her legs and hands were shaking again.

"What do you need?"

"For you to go away."

"I can't do that." She wasn't sure if he meant because she was in his apartment or if it was because he was afraid that if he left, she'd do something dangerous. It was surprising he hadn't called Combeferre for guidance yet. "Just tell me why you did it."

"How the hell is that supposed to help?" All of the anger she'd felt towards Montparnasse and her 'friends' came bubbling to the surface. If Enjolras thought that he could play therapist with her and everything would get all better, he was dead wrong. "I don't even want to be in the same room with you, because I know you're judging me. Every time you speak, every time you look at me, you make me remember everything, so just stop." She put her hands to her face with her thumbs hooked under her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

"I'm not judging you."

"You just told Grantaire he was sick for thinking everyone wants to die."

"Grantaire's not the same. He's doesn't seek death, but he'd be okay if he died. There's a huge difference."

"How do you know that's what he thinks?"

"I overheard him talking to Courf. That's exactly what he said, word for word. He's not like you. You're responsible and smart, and he doesn't give two shits about anything. So, why did you, of all people, try and..." he finished his sentence with a look of concern that Eponine hated.

"I'm not responsible and I'm not smart, and I hate it when you look at me like that."

"You study hard, and you work an ungodly amount of hours at that taco joint only to send all of your paychecks back home. Eponine, you're delusional if you think you aren't virtuous."

"I failed my tests, okay? I haven't heard from my siblings in months, and I was fired from that job because I took too much time off to study. I lost the scholarship because I'm an idiot, then my roommate threatened to call the cops on me out when she find my Les Amis button. I sold my goddamn soul to Montparnasse for a warm bed. Virtuous is the last fucking word I would use to describe my behaviour." She was rocking back and forth again, and couldn't stop hiccuping.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not-hic-your-hic-fault."

"You getting kicked out of your dorm is. I knew those pins were a stupid idea," he ran a hand through his hair. "How could you fail your tests? We spent days going over the material!"

"I'm an idiot-hic-remember?"

"You're not. I didn't mean it like that. I just- nevermind. Is that all? What happened with Montparnasse? Why didn't you come to one of us? We could have helped you!"

"Is that-hic-all?!" she fell into a brief period of hysterics which ended in crying. Her face was rubbed raw already from wiping away tears, but the crying had made her hiccups go away. "Montparnasse's reputation precedes him, and it's all true. Every word of it."

Enjolras' eyes grew wide. "Wait-"

"How could I have possibly gone to any of you for help? Are we even friends? If I'd told you about the failing thing back when it happened, you would have flipped. Plus I didn't have a job. How could I possibly expect any of you to support me? I'm not going to get hired again anytime soon. It was a godsend I even got hired at the shit place I did."

"Of course we would have helped you! Eponine, Les Amis de l'abc means The Friends of the Lower. When you're down and out, we're your friends the same as when you're not. You don't have to- to-"

"And now you're making me feel guilty about what I've done."

"You _should_ feel bad! You tried to kill yourself!"

"Why? Because you don't want me to? Well, pardon me, I didn't realize this was all about you! None of you would have even noticed. None of you care. Everyone uses me. You, Marius, Montparnasse, you're all the same. So, don't sit there and tell me you'd have been there, because you weren't, and you wouldn't have."

"Eponine, you're important," he was starting to raise his voice. "How could you possibly think we wouldn't notice you'd left!"

"Last night was the first time I've seen you all semester! I've been missing for months, trapped in hell, and no one bothered to ask where I went. Don't lie to me. Don't try and make me feel ashamed. I don't matter to anyone, not to my family, not to the Amis, not to you. I just want it to be done. I quit."

Arguing was what he did best, but Enjolras seemed at a loss for words. He wanted to yell at her and tell she was being stupid and selfish, but that wouldn't help. "I'm sorry," he said eventually. "We didn't mean to make it seem like we forgot you. You did so much for us first semester, I thought you wanted a break. I know you're not in this for the revolution. I didn't want you to feel like you had to stick with us until the very end. I thought I made that clear when you joined the Amis."

"I'm not part of the Amis. You don't need me."

"We do! You're - you're," he was fishing for words to tell her otherwise, but was failing. The dark circles under her eyes and around her neck kept distracting him. "You're funny, like Courfeyrac and Bossuet."

"So?"

"And wise like Combeferre, and obsessed with love like Jehan! You annoy the hell out of me like Marius and you fight with me more than Bahorel, you're headstrong like me, you work harder than Feuilly, and are sadder than Grantaire, and you know more about caring for wounds and drunkards than Joly."

"You don't need me. You have all those people already. I'm just your pity project."

"But you're also cunning and witty, and we need you, so stay with us. Don't you dare leave."

"I don't believe you."

"You will."

"Whatever."

"Do I need to take you to the ER?"

"No," she touched her neck. "There's nothing they can do."

"I didn't mean for your neck."

"I want to go back to Montparnasse's," the look on her face said otherwise. "See if I can beg for forgiveness."

"You don't need his forgiveness. You don't need_ him_."

"What am I supposed to do then? It's not like I planned for this."

He pulled a couch pillow out from behind his back and tossed it to her. "For tonight. Tomorrow, I'll see if Musichetta still has that spare bed."

"You don't need to babysit me. You don't have to pretend like you care. It's fine."

"I'm not." He got up and dead-bolted the door. "I'm just helping. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"I never do anything I don't want to." He started down the hall as if to go to bed.

"Wait! Can you just- can you just stay here for a little while?" She didn't add that she was scared and didn't want to be alone.

"Absolutely." Taking a blanket from the pile she had pushed on the floor, he sat on the opposite end of the couch. "Is it okay if I turn on the TV? I hate silence."

"Please," as much as she didn't want to be alone, she also didn't want to talk about her botched suicide anymore. He couldn't find the remote anywhere though, which was the only way to turn it on. Instead, he settled for playing music from his phone. It must have been stuck on a Glenn Miller album though, because for ten minutes straight all they listened to was big band music. When 'A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square' came on, she heard him start to hum it quietly.

"I remember this song from high school. We sang it for the winter concert."

"Yup. Those were the days."

"Not really." The year they sang the song was the same year she had swallowed a handful of sleeping pills just before bed. When she woke up, she had a terrible hangover, but she was still alive. She never bothered to tell anyone. Five years later, she still couldn't get it right.

"I'm sorry, I forgot about-"

"It's fine," she cut him off. High school was one of the many things on her list of avoided topics.

An hour later, when she was certain he was asleep, she turned his phone off and rearranged herself so that her head was closer to him rather than her feet. She let her fingers brush the side of his leg. Just knowing someone else was there, someone safe, made her feel a little less jittery inside. Enjolras wouldn't have been her first pick if she'd been given a line up of comforting people, in fact she wouldn't have picked him at all. He was terrifying and imposing, but he had a certain charm and a way with words. He knew where his priorities were and thought of everything. She matched the rhythm of his breath with her own until she was calm enough to close her eyes. The day was over, but she was not.

**A/N: Wow. Peak Drama you guys. I hope this was all in character. It's hard for me to know how much kindness and sympathy Enjolras is capable of, because he's A) the stone man and B) the leader of a rebellion to help the downtrodden. So does he care, or doesn't he? I tried to encapsulate that here. **


	11. Chapter 11

The same bloodstained nightmares that had been haunting her for the past few weeks drenched her in sweat every night since she'd come to stay at Musichetta's. The night she spent with Enjolras was dreamless and deep, despite sleeping on his saggy couch. Now she found herself startled awake, screaming, around three am every morning. Tonight though, she was not alone.

While she sat panting, trying to get a grasp on reality, Enjolras and Musichetta were watching her. She saw their shadows move, and screamed again, before falling off her bare mattress. Musichetta went to help her up.

"Sorry. I heard you weren't supposed to wake someone if they were having a nightmare." Enjolras stayed in his spot in front of the window, turning himself into nothing more than a silhouette.

"That's sleepwalkers, dipshit," Eponine grunted. Gavroche used to sleepwalk. They had to tape all of the light switches down so that he wouldn't turn them on when he made his rounds. For a while, they even had to go so far as to hide the knives. "What do you guys want?"

"Not me. Just him. I'm here to convince you to tell him, 'no'."

Enjolras shot her a dirty look. "Honestly, Musichetta? I'm sure she can think for herself."

"The sun's not even up, you guys."

"I know, we need to leave now if we want to make it to the Capitol by tomorrow morning."

"We're in the capital."

"Not this one."

"The- the CAPITOL-CAPITOL? As in Washington D.C.?"

"That's the one." Musichetta tried to cover Eponine with blankets so that she would get back into bed.

"Why are we going_ there_?"

"Not we. You and him. Or just him if you want. You don't have to say yes. Lord knows I didn't. This lunatic wants to assassinate the president. Blow up the White House and Treasury while he's at it."

Eponine was reeling. "When did you decide this?"

"We've been planning it for months. The time is right. The president will be meeting with congress within the next few days over some crucial legislature. If we don't do it now, I don't know when our next chance will be."

"You're talking about killing the fucking_ president of the United States_. What do you want to do next, steal the Declaration of Independence?"

"Musichetta was right. You don't have to come if you don't want to. I need to know now though."

Eponine shook her blankets off and leaned against the wall. She was still disoriented from her nightmares, but the sleep was wearing off. She pinched herself to make sure she was actually awake.

"Just say no." Musichetta tried to take Eponine's hand, but she pulled away.

"No."

Disappointed, Enjolras turned to leave.

"No, I mean no to Musichetta. Yes to you. I'm coming. Just let me put on a sweater or something."

Musichetta gasped. "Ponine, please."

Enjolras pulled the brown carpet-sweater his mother had given him out of his satchel. "I came prepared." He tossed it to her. "Let's go then."

"No, wait," Musichetta made a grab for her. "You don't have to, you don't owe him anything."

"I'm not doing this for him."

"You two have been inseparable ever since-"

"Ever since the accident? I don't help murder people because my friends ask me to. I'm not doing this for him."

"Come along, Eponine," Enjolras readjusted his bag and started down the stairs.

"Be safe."

"You know I don't keep my promises," she kissed Musichetta on the cheek. "Thank you for everything."

"If you get the chance. You run. You run so far."

Eponine saluted her before running after Enjolras.

* * *

For one intense moment, sunlight blazed against the windshield the traffic streaming ahead on I-75. Enjolras kept the accelerator floored; he could only hope he didn't plow into another vehicle. At the top of the on-ramp, the sedan took flight. Enjolras and his passengers smacked their heads against the roof, then the car crashed down in an explosion of sparks. Its back bumper crumpling against the concrete. He nearly hit another car before his frantic overcorrection slammed them into the guardrail.

"You're going to get us killed!" Eponine screamed, straining to be heard over Courfeyrac praying at the top of his lungs.

The police were gaining, their siren almost louder than Courfeyrac. Eponine struggled to get her seatbelt undone, both Courf and Jehan laying on her, making it almost impossible. She pushed her way to the front seat roughly, sparing only a moments glance to see the police cruiser disappear behind a semitrailer, and then reappear in the breakdown lane.

"You're blocking my view!" Enjolras shouted. "SIT DOWN!"

A glint of sunlight flashed off a car in the breakdown lane a half mile ahead. At eighty miles per hour, the distance would evaporate in less than twenty seconds. Traffic was lighter here; he could swerve into the lane on his left at anytime. She looked back once more, the cruiser was almost on top of them. A figure armed with a shotgun jutted up from the passenger-side window. If he waited until the last moment to swerve, the police would crash into the stalled car. Enjolras would never do it though. There could be innocent people in there.

Eponine climbed over the center console and into his lap, everyone started screaming louder than before. While he was trying to shove her off, she took control of the wheel and changed lanes for him. Too soon. The police swerved to follow them, pursuing them into the middle lane, and in a burst of speed edging ever closer.

"Get off getoffgetoff!"

She elbowed him in the stomach and tried to take control over the accelerator as well. A blast hit their door, sending thousands of tiny crystals sailing across the car's interior. Everyone screamed and ducked except for Eponine. Enjolras grabbed her tightly around the midsection and held her to his chest to keep her from being thrown, as she wasn't wearing a seatbelt.

_Boom!_ Combeferre's window disintegrated. This time, she ducked, blind to the road ahead, letting the small collisions with the guardrail guide her along the left lane of the highway.

"There!" Enjolras released his grip on her for a moment to point at the next exit.

"Got it." When she was parallel to the exit, she tapped the brake, letting the police shoot ahead of them. Across four lanes of traffic, she cut, nearly being crushed by two semis in the process. She didn't slow on the off ramp, instead running a red light and shooting into the main stream of traffic that led into a metropolitan area. She wove in and out of traffic until she found a used car lot and pulling into the back.

The all sat breathing heavily for a moment.

"You can let go now."

Enjolras dropped his hands self consciously. "What now?"

She unbuckled him before climbing out of the car and dusting the glass off of her clothes. "Come on, there's probably cameras on us right now. Jehan I need your ribbon." He passed it up to her. She quickly tied a loop on the end of it and approached a 70's Mercury. Within seconds she had the car unlocked and was ushering the group and their guns in.

"We don't have the keys," Enjolras pointed out, sitting dumbly in the used car's driver's seat.

"Silly boy." she tapped her nose before shoving his legs aside and squeezing herself beneath the dashboard. "Hotwire. If you're going to be a criminal, you've gotta act like one. You don't happen to have any tools in those cases, do you?"

"What do you need?"

"What do you have?"

"Crowbar, pliers, superglue-"

"Pliers. Now." She got the engine started and climbed into the passenger seat. "Think you can avoid getting notice by the po-po this time?"

"I don't know how they knew who we were."

"They might not have."

"We're terrorists." He revved the engine and pulled out back onto the main road. They were still hundreds of miles from the Capitol, but ahead of schedule.

"Not yet. We haven't done anything yet."

Combeferre leaned his head against the window, his glasses were still askew from being jostled around so much. "We're going to have to be more careful. We should stay in separate motels tonight. Call Joly's group. Let them know about what happened and why we need to split up."

Enjolras passed his phone to Eponine. "Tell them not to wait for us."

She passed it over to Jehan. "You do it. You'll swear less."

"Don't leave anything out," Enjolras warned. "I want to make sure they know exactly what we're up against." His hands were shaking.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly so that the rest of the car wouldn't be alerted if he wasn't.

"It's just the adrenaline."

She touched his elbow. "You sure?"

"You're really reckless sometimes, you know that?"

"Everyone knows that."

"I'm glad you're here."

"Sure."


	12. Chapter 12

Courfeyrac was the first into the motel room. He yanked the curtains shut and flopped himself down on one of the beds. "Dibs," he called out, making sure everyone knew the spot was his.

Enjolras put his backpack down on the other bed. "You'll be the first person the police grab if they find us here."

"Aw, don't be sour just cause I'm next to the air conditioning. We can always share, you know."

"You snore."

"And drool," Eponine added, putting her stuff next to Enjolras'. Jehan came in, sorely disappointed by the arrangements. There was a large wet mark on his shoulder where Courfeyrac had fallen asleep earlier. He sat down next him again despite it.

Combeferre had the most luggage, so he came in last. No one missed the cursory glance he gave to Eponine before taking his things to an overstuffed chair in the corner. She might have moved, but she was too tired and grumpy from the day's perils. Screw generosity. Tomorrow they would all be dead anyway. If tonight was her last, she wanted to spend it in a bed. Besides they all owed her favors, even if she didn't want to admit it out loud.

"I'm going to take a shower," Enjolras announced.

Eponine didn't see the point in getting cleaned up to be murdered in only a few short hours. Sure, she had dolled herself up for both suicide attempts, but only after using the bathroom and making certain she would be found within a reasonable amount of time first. This time would be bloody and dirty, and martyrly. She'd probably end up wetting herself, and her corpse wouldn't be scraped off the cement for days. Taking a shower now wouldn't do the morticians any good, but she didn't tell Enjolras all of this. He wouldn't want to hear it.

Courfeyrac cranked the air before falling asleep. It was fine and dandy for him, he had Jehan to spoon with and keep himself warm, but Combeferre was blanketless and Eponine suspected she had the start of a fever. She pulled the comforter off and tossed it to him to make up for taking his spot on the bed. Then she wrapped herself in Enjolras' discarded red pullover. The water in the bathroom shut off, so she pulled the blankets up to her chin and feigned sleep so that he wouldn't get upset about her wearing his most prized possession. The fuzzy brown thing he lent her was outside in the car, not a place she was willing to venture to.

He crawled in beside her without a word, turning the lights off as he did. It was some time before he stopped shifting around and found a spot the could be deemed, in the most liberal sense, comfortable; the bed was the best one could rent at forty dollars a night. Then he started whispering. To himself, she assumed, as the things he said were incoherent and came in short outbursts. She peeked at him through one above his head, his arms were outstretched, his fingers steepled like a businessman's.

"Enjolras," she hissed. Maybe he was having a religious moment or a seizure. He dropped his arms to his stomach.

"Sorry. I didn't think you were awake."

"I am too," Combeferre stage whispered.

Enjolras sat up a little to whisper an apology to his friend in the corner as well. His chest was bare, she noticed with and unreasonable feeling of shock, when the sheet slid down his body. She completely desensitized to anything that had to do with the human male form, but somehow this was different. He was _Enjolras_ for god's sake! People like him were never without a wristwatch and a smart pair of shoes. Him being without a shirt was completely inconceivable. He was practically naked! _Wait_-

"You're wearing pants, right?"

He gave her a look as he lay back down. "Course I'm wearing pants." She waited a while before reaching out to touch him with her foot. It brushed against his bare ankle, a hem nowhere in sight. She quickly apologized before reaching out with her hand. Maybe they were bunched up a bit? She meant to lightly touch the fabric on his legs, but instead brushed against something distinctly butt-like. "That would be my ass." She drew her hand back as if he'd burned her and balled in into a fist. No one ever touched Enjolras' butt. She was pretty she even HE never had.

"Sorry..." The following silence was heavy and awkward. She needed to say something. "How much does it cost per touch? I didn't mean to steal the merchandise."

"No charge. Just don't do it again."

"You'll never be able to support yourself on that! Even common whores such as yourself have bills to pay."

"Fine. A million dollars."

She couldn't believe he was playing along. The stress of tomorrow must really be taking a toll on him."What?! In this economy?"

"I'm worth it. Go big or go home."

She started to giggle at him which in turn made him giggle. Combeferre's pillow hit them. "If you two think you're going to be acting like little girls all night-" Eponine threw the pillow back at him.

"Only little girls start pillow fights."

Enjolras pulled on the blanket to get her attention. "Seriously. No more talking."

"You're the one who was talking to himself in the first place."

"I was just going over tomorrow's plans. I'm done. Now, go to sleep."

She closed her eyes, but focused on Courfeyrac's snoring instead of trying to sleep. Mostly, she was afraid that she would have the nightmares again. It was hard to will herself into a realm where every second was fear and pain.

Around two in the morning she started to drift off, only to be kicked awake by Enjolras. She kicked him back but he didn't retaliate. The bed started to shake a little. She turned over to ask him to knock it off, only to see him twitching like a dog having a dream about chasing cars. His face was scrunched up like someone had stabbed him in the stomach. For a fleeting moment, she considered letting him suffer through his nightmare like he had done to her the night before, but then thought better of it. Slowly, so as not to startle him, she ran her fingers down the back of his arm, and then shook his shoulder a little. It was too much. He began to whimper like an injured dog. She tried whispering his name instead, and ran a finger down his spine. If any of the boys woke up and saw this, they might get scared or start to question his faith in tomorrow's revolution. He stopped shaking and rocked a little instead. The line transformed into the deck of a ship. Below, she traced swirling waves and clouds across the spasming muscles in his back. The muttering and rocking stopped. She continued drawing, a sun on his shoulder with uneven rays radiating out towards the sea.

"Stop."

Then an 'M' for a seagull in the sky. She dropped her hand and tucked in under her cheek.

"What were you doing?"

"Guess." When he didn't, she wrote the word boat between his shoulder blades. "I used to play draw pictures on 'Zelma's back when she had nightmares and couldn't sleep." She listened to him breath for a few minutes. "What were you dreaming about?"

"I don't know."

"Was it about tomorrow?"

"I don't remember." He was whispering even quieter than she was. Maybe he knew it was best not to trouble the boys too. He rolled onto his back and mopped his forehead with the back of his hand. His too-long hair stuck to his hot face. "Stay here tomorrow. We can come back for you when this is all over. It wasn't fair of me to ask you to come. I know you don't want to be here."

She was quiet a moment. Where was this coming from? "You don't know anything. Besides, if I wait for you lot to come back, I could be waiting my whole life."

"It's going to be dangerous. You could get hurt. Or die."

"I'm aware."

"I can't ask you to risk yourself for something you don't believe in."

"Are you scared about tomorrow?"

"No. Are you?" She could tell he was lying.

"No. Do you think it will work?"

"It has to."

"And if it doesn't?"

"I'll be dead. We all will be." He pressed the heels of his palms over his eyes and sighed.

She let his conclusion hang in the air for a while. Her own life was of no consequence. She didn't want to die, but she didn't want to live either. Enjolras was important. He was a guiding light. He had a certain spark that couldn't help but inspire even the most downtrodden. The boy was alive in ways most people never are. She was a moth to his torch of purpose. Just being near him made her feel comfortable, even when he was scared like he was now. Everything Grantaire had explained to her one drunken night months ago was finally making sense. He couldn't die. It was impossible to imagine him as anything other than living.

"You'll win. You'll be great. Who wouldn't want to be great?"

"I hope you're right. Either way, you should stay here tomorrow."

"I don't care about dying, Enjolras."

"I do."

"You can't tell me what to do."

"You've proven that time and again."

"If I have to, I'll take a bullet for you tomorrow. You'll be fine. I won't let anything happen to you. Okay?" She meant for her words to be comforting, but even before she saw his face, she knew that they angered him.

He rolled to his side so that he could chastise her properly. Their knees knocked together, but neither repositioned themselves. "Stop it. You're an idiot."

"You've proven that to me time and again."

"No. Eponine, you don't owe me anything. You're not going to get shot for my sake. Don't try to be a hero, I don't want it. If things get bad, you can leave. You don't even have to come."

"I thought you appreciated loyalty. You'd take a bullet for any one of them," she gestured to the boys sleeping in the bed next to them, "right?"

"Yes, but-"

"And I would do the same for you." Her voice was beginning to raise. Why was her saving him such an issue? Where were these double standards coming from?

"Don't be stupid."

"I'm not. They need you. I'm not important. If it comes down to it, I'd sacrifice myself so that you could live. I'm not afraid."

"I know you aren't." his fingers brushed the scars on her shoulder so briefly, she thought she might have imagined it. "Just don't."

"What are you so scared of?"

He rolled back over to face the ceiling. "Don't you feel it?"

"The impending doom?"

"Yeah."

"Everyone can. Is that what your dream was about?"

"I sliced your throat." Eponine ran her fingers over the lingering bruise on her neck. Phantom trails of blood wound their way down to her collarbone, tickling her. "I carved up Courf, and then I lit Combeferre on fire. It's stupid, but I feel like it's a warning."

She looked at the sleeping boys. "Have you told anyone else?"

"Of course not," he scoffed. "It's stupid. It's just the stress."

"When you were drunk that one night-"

"I wasn't drunk."

"When you were drugged, you told me you thought that we were going to lose the fight."

"I also told you that you should marry Uncle Sam so that we could be in-laws. I was drugged."

"You remember saying that?"

"I remember scrubbing it off my arm for a week."

"Do you remember what happened when Caesar ignored dreams and premonitions?"

"I thought you believed we were going to all win and live."

"I thought you couldn't remember your nightmare."

"We can't just turn back because I've got a bad feeling."

"We can do whatever we want. That's the point of the fight, isn't it? Freedom?"

"Innocent people are dying for the government's agenda. That's what it's about." He had the flame of revolution in his eyes again. Gone was the loose conversation of a three am discussion. "If you come tomorrow, you can't do what you're planning on doing."

"What's that?"

"You can't die. I know you're not actually loyal. You think this is a suicide mission. It doesn't have to be, okay? Promise me you're not going to take the easy way out. When tomorrow's over, you come back to me. Swear it."

"You too." She felt about under the covers for his hand, and wrapped her pinky around his. If he squeezed back, it was imperceptible. He rolled over again so that his back was to her, confident in her promise. It took about an hour before Eponine was certain he was asleep, but eventually his breathing slowed to that of a dreamer's. Carefully, so as not to wake him, she wrote a long and winding apology across his back. When she felt finished, she kept close to him, palm pressed above his slowly beating heart. For a moment, she caught herself wished he were Marius instead. She pushed the thought away with such vehemence it surprised her. Marius had forsaken her; this is what she had left. A boy with as much fire in his soul as on his tongue. He was pushy and terrible, but he was also genuine and kind. He wasn't her best friend, or even a particularly good one, but tomorrow they would be loyal to each other, and it would only be until death that they would part.


	13. Chapter 13

The body moving beneath her was what woke Eponine. She stretched a little, eyes still closed. Her head was resting on his chest while his arm was wrapped around her, thumb tucked under the elastic of her waistband, resting in the depression next to her hip bone. _Marius._ His embrace was protective and comforting. She pressed herself in closer to him, bringing her arm around so that they would be completely intertwined. Her hand brushed against his hard-on. _Not Marius. Montparnasse._ She froze. His thumb moved in a small circle, sending a shiver coursing her entire body. Out. OUT. She needed out! Their legs were tangled up. Everything was tangled up! She'd never get away without waking him. Just when her fear reached a fever pitch, she caught scent of something familiar. Cheap Ivory bar soap. _Enjolras_. Her eyes flew open. Now she was truly awake. In one fluid motion, she extracted her arm from around him and tried to roll away. All of the sheets were at their feet, tying them together in an impossible knot. Enjolras, startled awake by all the commotion and perhaps slightly aware the position they'd previously been in, yelped and fell to the floor.

Courfeyrac was laughing at them too loudly for the hour, but everyone else held themselves together. Jehan blushed slightly for Enjolras' sake, and Combeferre shaking his head in Eponine's direction. Enjolras picked himself up as dignifiedly as one possibly can while half naked and tangled up in bed sheets. "I have to take a shower. Is anyone going after me?"

Eponine pushed her hair out of her eyes. It was tangled and limp, but she still refused to clean up for today's slaughterfest. "Didn't you just take a shower last night?" He shrugged and shut the bathroom door while Courfeyrac let out a brief snicker. "How long did you guys let that go on for?" she asked when she was certain Enjolras wouldn't hear. Already she knew he was going to act awkward about it as it was. She didn't need to fuel that particular fire. They still had to see each other all day, and she refused to spend it with him avoiding direct eye contact.

"Too long," Combeferre replied. "Why are you wearing his sweatshirt?"

"Why do you have our comforter? I was cold. If you didn't notice, Snorlax over here," she pointed accusatorily at Courfeyrac, "is accustomed to sleeping in Antarctica."

"I heard you two talking last night."

"I know. I threw my pillow at you."

"No, after that."

She stiffened. There was no way. Sure she had raised her voice a little, but mostly they'd talked in whispers.

Courfeyrac saw her fear, but misinterpreted it. "Calm down, Pony! We don't care if you guys do things together! Lord knows Enjolras needs diffuse some of that built up stress. He's going to give himself an aneurysm."

_Wait. What!?_

"I think we should focus on today Courf," Combeferre reminded him. "Enjolras can't be...distracted."

"Love heightens the senses," Jehan put in.

"We're not in love you guys. Neither of us could sleep, so we talked about how tired we were until we could." Obviously Combeferre hadn't understood a word of the actual conversation, so she risked making something up.

"Eponine, I heard you guys talking about your feelings and how you would die without one another. Okay? I get it. I just need you to leave it behind for today."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure it went more like this," Courfeyrac pushed Jehan down before straddling his hips and pretending to make out with him, using a hand as a barrier between their lips. "Oh, Enjolras, you're so strong!" he wailed in a ridiculous falsetto. Jehan was trying to push him off to no avail as he was laughing so hard. "_What's that?_ You've never met a girl like me before? Oh, I know honey. You just wait until- _EW! Did you lick my hand?_" he jumped off of Jehan, wiping his hand on his trousers.

"I was trying to tell you to get off. You're hand happened to be in my mouth."

Eponine threw her pillow at Courf. "You're such a dork."

"If that's not what happened, then why were you guys cuddling this morning? HM?! Riddle me that!"

"It just happened!" Everyone cast her doubtful looks. "Why would I lie to you?"

Combeferre sighed. "Regardless if there is or isn't anything going on between you two, today is about justice and that is all. If we let anything come before that, we'll be at risk for making mistakes we can't afford."

They had to ditch the car in case the police were tracking it. Eponine wouldn't have minded, except for it was freezing out and the walk to the bus station was a few miles away. She stayed in front of the boys so that she wouldn't have to listen to them gossip about her supposed furtive tryst. Enjolras stayed by her side, supposedly for the same reason, but he kept a good six feet away. Probably he was embarrassed about what had transpired that morning.

"I'm sorry," Enjolras began after awhile of awkward silence, confirming Eponine's suspicions. "about earlier. I didn't mean to- I didn't know-"

"It's fine."

"It wasn't very gentlemanly of me. I hope you don't think I did that on purpose."

"Enjolras, seriously. It's not that big of a deal."

"I know you haven't been feeling well lately, ever since the- um-"

She knew he wanted to talk about her suicide attempt and her relationship with Montparnasse again, but as it was her last day on Earth she certainly didn't want to reminisce about those things. Instead, she quickly changed the subject. "Do you think someone could run away and live in the woods without ever having to come back to society?"

"I'm sorry?" He looked to either strip of forest bordering the highway they walked down. "I think that was the plot line of My Side of the Mountain."

"Never read it. Did it work?"

"I can't remember."

"I'm going to build a house right there," Eponine pointed to a denser part of pine trees up ahead.

Enjolras squinted. "And do what?"

"Live there? The government wouldn't know. We wouldn't have any hardships because we would live off of the food we scavenged and the water in the streams and plants. There wouldn't be any laws to follow or people to be afraid of."

"You'd probably get dysentery and die."

Eponine jabbed his arm playfully. "Joly can be our neighbor and tell me what herbs to eat to fix that."

"'Our' neighbor?" Enjolras looked a little worried that he was playing a role in her hermit fantasy.

"Yeah, Marius and me. We would have eight or so children. All boys of course. Marius was getting pretty good with his gun, last I saw. He could teach them all how to hunt."

Enjolras' face became increasingly distraught. "Marius?"

"I know he's dating Cosette, but this is make-believe. Let's pretend he's not."

"If today goes as planned, you won't have to run away to the woods to live without hardships."

Eponine frowned. Today wasn't going to go as planned and he knew it. This was it. This was the last one. She grabbed his sleeve and tugged him off the road, toward the pine trees. "We don't have to go support the revolution, you know. We could start building huts right now. Then it wouldn't matter who was president and supported whose rights."

"It's bigger than that, 'Ponine. We can't all just run away from our problems, because eventually there's going to be no where to hide. The people need to rise _today_ if we want to live our lives as free men and women. It's our duty to defend those who can't defend themselves."

Eponine dropped his sleeve. "It's not fair."

"That's the point. Nothing is fair, equality is scarce to be found. We need to fix that," he looked at her as one might when explaining why the sky is blue to a child.

"Gotchya," she sighed, chafed by his words. She picked up her pace so that she wouldn't have to bear his condescending looks any longer. Was it really that hard of a concept to understand that she didn't want him to die? The least he could do was entertain her concerns. She glanced back and saw that he had joined his brothers, but was staring pointedly at her.

_At least we'll all be equal when we're dead_, she thought.


	14. Chapter 14

It was raining when they got to the metro station, but Enjolras' over sized red sweatshirt kept Eponine warm. They should have known something was wrong when they took cover in the underground station and saw that the escalators were turned off. Jehan mentioned the lack of hustle and bustle, but no one paid him any mind as they should have. They bought their tickets and passed through the turn stile and boarded the nearest blue line car. Courfeyrac sat closest to the door, jittery as ever.

"What stop are we again?" He asked Combeferre, who was holding the map upside down.

"Capitol South." He fingered the gun he kept in his waistband nervously. "Jehan is the Smithsonian stop and Enjolras is the Federal Triangle. Eponine, are you going with Enjolras?" He said it as if it were a dare. She knew the correct answer was no, but if she didn't stay with him, how was she supposed to keep him alive? She shrugged.

"Where is everyone?" Jehan mused again.

Eponine turned in her seat and pressed her face against the window. There car was empty and the station only had a few homeless people lingering about in it. In the streets there were a few people loitering about, but they looked- on guard? It was hard to tell because the train was moving so fast. Her breath fogged up the window. "Maybe it's a holiday."

"Could they have evacuated the city?" Courfeyrac wondered.

Combeferre chewed his cheek, considering it. "It's flood season, but we would have seen it on the news the last few days if the flooding was bad enough to cause a city wide evacuation."

"There could be a tornado coming," Jehan offered.

"That doesn't usually send everyone indoors. There would've been more people in the station if that were the case anyway."

Courfeyrac and Combeferre got off at their stop quietly. They nodded to their friends, but didn't say good bye. It would have been too ominous. When Jehan got off, he hugged both Eponine and Enjolras, wishing them luck as he did so. "You guys stay safe okay?"

"You too." Eponine held his hand for a second before letting him go. He was always so good. She wished he would stay with them instead of going off on his own. It wasn't fair that she should be alone without someone to watch his back. She slumped in her seat when he was gone.

"Our stop is next."

She responded with a sigh.

"You could stay on the train and ride it back to where we got on if you wanted."

"You could too."

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, ignoring her suggestion.

"Only if you are."

He took his gun out slid a magazine in. "Do you think everyone's gone because they knew we were coming?"

"That kind of thing only happens in the movies."

"I bet they took the president to a more secure location if that's what this is all about."

"I don't think so. It's like Combeferre said, we didn't see anything about this on the news. If it happened while we were walking, then realistically, they wouldn't have time to pull him out. He's probably holed up in an underground bunker inside the city."

Enjolras ran a hand through his hair before stuffing the gun back in his jeans. "I hope you're right."

"Am I ever wrong?"

"You failed all of your finals," he smirked at her.

She kicked his foot. "You're a jackass."

"I know."

The Federal Triangle stop was inevitably empty. Enjolras got off first, glancing around for hidden gunmen before sprinting up the stairs to the street above. Eponine followed more cautiously. It was hard not to be afraid of the unknown. How could the _entire_ metropolitan area be deserted? The city didn't get evacuated because a couple of kids stole a car and were known to have guns. She was sure of it. Entertaining the very notion was ridiculous. This sort of thing only occurred during natural disasters and terrorist attacks. _Terrorist attacks._ Could it be? Someone must have alerted them to the assassination attempt that was planned. The Musain Cafe wasn't exactly a private area to plan these sorts of things. She ran after Enjolras, bumping into him from behind in her hurry.

"Hey-"

"Shhh!" he shushed her, taking her arm and pulling her down the street, away from their planned route to the white house. "Don't look back. There's soldiers on the corner that way. They saw me and went for their walkie talkies."

"What?"

"We need to figure out where everyone else went and hide there ourselves."

"Enjolras," she started walking faster "I think they know about you and the plan."

He stopped in surprise "What? How?"

"Someone must have told. They could have put the city into lock down to protect the people from a terrorist attack."

"Didn't you just tell me that kind of thing only happens in movies?" He was jogging now, checking for unlocked doors on the storefronts they passed.

"That was when I was thinking about this as a revolution! The soldiers back there aren't as free-thinking as you and I. This is a terrorist attempt to bring the people to their knees in their eyes."

"Come on, back here!" He pulled her into an alley with him, pushing her behind the dumpster before ducking down himself.

"Are you kidding me? This is the worst plan ever! Hiding behind a dumpster is the sketchiest thing we could be doing right now." Her harsh whispers bounced off the walls.

"There's no where else to hide! All of the stores are closed up, what do you want from me?"

"We could have pretended to be lost tourists!"

"Sure, and they know who I am, they would recognize as America's Most Wanted and shoot us both on sight."

Eponine groaned. They were both going to die and they'd hadn't even done anything yet. There were shouts from the end of the street. Enjolras stood and went for his gun, but she stilled his hand. "If you shoot them, it will alert the others."

"If we don't, it will alert the others _and_ we'll be dead." He went for his gun again. She yanked his hand away from it, giving her an idea. She pulled him in close and kissed him hard on his open mouth.

For a second, she thought that he might kiss her back, but instead he shoved her away roughly. "Woah, woah woah! What the hell?!"

"Come on! Just kiss me! They won't be able to see your face!"

She took a step toward him and he took a step back. "Yeah, they won't see it until they tell us to freeze and put our fucking hands in the air!"

"_Just trust me!_" She saw his eyes flick to the giant ugly bruise on her neck and knew what he must be thinking. She didn't care about herself. Anything she did from now on was for him. He took a small tenative step towards her, but that was enough. She could tell he had given in and was back on him in an instant. "Dammit boy, kiss me like I'm a woman, not your grandmother!" she hissed into his mouth.

He pulled away a little bit. "I don't know what to do with my hands!"

"Push me against the wall."

"What?"

"Like this," she backed against the wall and pulled him on top of her. "Just copy what I do now, and keep your head low." The soldiers running footsteps in the empty street were in time with her pounding heart. She started to pull her sweatshirt off.

"Wait! What are you doing?"

"Less clothes the better."

"What? No!"

"Fine, you take _your_ shirt off then!" she could feel him fumbling against her to do it so she helped him, going back to kissing him as soon as it was off. He teased her, probably not on purpose, with soft gentle kisses, like she was going to break. It wasn't going to fool anyone. Impatiently, she deepened them running her fingers down his bare stomach. He pressed closer to her, one arm resting against the wall on the spot above her head and the other at the base of her neck, thumb going in small circles the way it had been that morning on her hip.

There was a shout of surprise at the alleyway's entrance. Enjolras stiffened and reached for his gun instinctively, but she recognized it and instead took his hand in hers and moved it to her hair. She tilted her head so that he was kissing her neck now, effectively hiding his face from the soldiers with her hair. She bit his shoulder experimentally, and he nipped her back.

"What are you two doing out!"

Eponine lifted her face to the man. "We thought we'd take a little stroll," she answered breathily. She ground her hips against Enjolras, inadvertently making him moan as well.

"The city is in lock down. You need to get back to your assigned safe spots." he ordered.

"I'm sorry," she told him as sincerely as she could manage with Enjolras mouth wandering over her freezing cold body. She wrapped a leg around his waist, hoping he would catch on. He took her other thigh and helped her up so that he was holding her weight entirely. She wasn't sure how he could see with his face buried in her nonexistent chest, but he walked past the officer and down the road, around the corner without dropping her or bumping into anything. "I think we're safe," she whispered. Enjolras put her down quickly.

"That was the stupidest thing I've ever done."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure your entire plan to come here is the stupidest thing you've ever done." They jogged down the street, looking for obvious safe houses, people milling about, unlocked doors; any form of life would have been nice.

"What if it hadn't worked?"

"What if you hadn't used tongue?" she retorted.

"Me?! What about you? You practically reached into my pants halfway through!"

"No, I'm pretty sure that was you."

"Wait-" He held out and arm to stop her. "Do you hear that?"

She paused and listened. "It sounds like chanting."

They sprinted to the next street corner where the noise was coming from. It was the biggest assemblage of people either of them had ever seen. They were walking and running and screaming and the police were trying to hold them back to no avail. They were trying to get to the Capitol.

* * *

**Do you think I should combine this chapter and chapter 13? **

**Please go read The Masquerade if you like my writing (link at the bottom. I think it should work.) It's a story that I've been beta reading for the last few weeks and it's coming along really well!**

**I appreciate all comments and suggestions! ****_Thank you so much for all of your support guys!_**** I couldn't ask for better readers!**

**s/9149390/1/The-Masquerade (just add fanfiction dot net, before it, or put it into the google machine and it should give you the story as a search result!)**


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